Midnight's Hymn
by CrimsonRegret478
Summary: Lovino knew he was neither perfect nor loved. Feliciano had that role. Lovino didn't care. All he did was get beaten by his father every day. Yeah. He didn't care. But when a happy-go-lucky Spaniard moves in next door, will Lovino finally change his outlook on life? Prequel to MD.
1. Prologue: Imperfection

**I know I shouldn't be working on the prequel while the sequel is still in progress but... I honestly couldn't help myself. _Midnight's Kiss _will be finished before this will, I promise. As I said in the last chapter, inspiration is way low. Ideas would be very much appreciated. Whether in review or PM, I am willing to listen to anything and everything.**

**Feedback on this prologue of only... 300 words would be fantastic as well. It's a matter of whether I should continue this story or not.**

**Thank you so much everyone for supporting me and my stories! I know I don't say it enough. So... thank you!**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

**Prologue**

He fell into a messy heap on the floor, struggling to catch his breath. He clutched his stomach where the blow had been dealt as he rolled on the floor in agony. Tears stung his eyes and a lump gathered in his throat. He didn't understand. Why was his father doing this? What had he done wrong? Sure he broke a dish while washing them but was this necessary?

The seven year old had asked himself these questions for years now. Never once had he seen his father express his love or sing his praises. It was always his younger brother. His perfect, wonderful younger brother. He had been told that he would never amount to anything—that he would forever remain in his younger brother's shadow. And he had actually come to believe it.

Said younger brother sat cowering in the corner in fear he, too, would be punished.

The angry man picked up his eldest son by his hair, scowling and spitting insults at him.

"You'd be better off dead. God damn kid," the father spat before dropping the boy to the floor amongst his tears and pain, grumbling something as he walked away. He left him there to grovel.

His mother watched from afar, crying softly with hands covering her mouth. What could she do? Anything from her would've resulted in another beating. She wanted her children to be happy. Or well, as happy as they could be. There was nowhere for them to go. And if she left… she didn't dare think of the outcome.

"_That's my boy," _was all the distraught child wanted to hear his father say. He heard his father say it to his younger brother all the time. Wasn't he worthy of that same love? Couldn't he be as perfect as his sibling?

Lovino Vargas rolled to his feet.

He didn't think so.


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank yo uso much to those who reviewed the prologue! I hope you'll get the same experience out of this story as you do the others! I know it's short but we're just getting started - don't give up on me now! Tell me what you think by reviewing and more chapters will be out soon! **

**Each chapter will start and end with a journal entry.**

**Oh and one more piece of advide: Be prepared.**

**Happy reading!**

**Warnings: Language, violence**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

_March 18__th__, 2008—_

_ Well, Feliciano got me this stupid journal for our shared birthday (it sucks having to share a birthday by the way) even though I'm already 14 and too old to be writing in a journal like some silly junior high girl. Mom says it can be therapeutic if I'm ever stressed out with school or with life in general as if I need therapy. Crazy woman. I don't think Feliciano had any of that crap in mind._

_But I'm writing in it so it won't hurt his feelings and go crying to Mom and Dad about how mean I am. He's done it before so I'm sure he'll do it again. The kid's 12 years old, acts like he's five, and is favored greatly by my parents like he's some kind of saint. He can do no wrong while I am the mistake prone misfit. No matter how annoying he gets he's still my brother and he has a good heart. I'll never admit that out loud though. Forget that shit!_

_I got Feliciano a sketchbook since he loves to draw and is ten times better at it than I'll ever be. Feliciano is better than me at a lot of things—singing, music, drawing, you name it and Feliciano can do it. Coming from an artistic family isn't as easy as it looks—especially when you're not artistic. This stingy Austrian bastard of a teacher is trying to teach me how to play the piano. I haven't got the hang of it yet but neither has Feliciano. Maybe I'll be better than him at something for once._

_That's it for now. I've got nothing else to say._

Lovino lifted the piece of floorboard and placed the journal into the hollowed out space next to his jar saved money. He closed the hatch and it fell softly into place. He sighed and combed a hand through his dark hair. That last line he wrote was an absolute lie. There was so much more he wanted to say, so much more he had been keeping cooped up inside his heart for so long. In fact, he felt some of the weight being lifted off his shoulders with each word he penned.

_Therapeutic, huh? _Lovino stared at his ceiling. _Maybe._

An owl hooted outside his window before he heard it burst into flight. He often wished he had powerful wings like an owl or eagle to carry him away from this place. No one would miss him. No one would even notice he was gone. They had the glorious Feliciano to continue doting on. He closed his eyes and listened to the crickets' soothing evening song. No use dwelling on the impossible.

"Lovino! Dinner's ready! Come on down!" his mother, Felisa, called from the bottom of the stairs, her sweet voice ringing like bells.

His mother, Felisa, in all her beauty and kindness, was a coward in his eyes. She would sit and watch, and often turn her head, as her husband beat her eldest son. He continued to wonder why she didn't run away from her abusive lover. He didn't understand what she saw in such a man. His love for her was undeterred however.

"I'll be there in a minute," Lovino said back, burying his face in his pillow.

"Don't make me have to go up there and get you, boy!" his father's threat came out a snarl. "Get down here like your mother said!"

Boy. His father, Damiano, had been calling him that for as long as he could remember. He was surprised that in the early years of his life he hadn't been confused about his identity. Damiano had never called Lovino by his first name. But there were plenty of substitutes for just "boy" so it was suffice.

Lovino placed his feet to the floor and rested his hand on his shoulder. He cringed. The bruise was a dark purple in color even if it was from three weeks ago and it was the size of a baseball. The knot lying underneath his skin had the mass of a golf ball. He'd had much worse, however. Just like that one time—

_No, don't go back there, _Lovino thought, wincing as he remembered one of his more severe punishments. _That's in the past now. There's no need to go back to the hospital. It's over._

"_Fratello," _Feliciano knocked on the door. _"Fratello, _you'd better get downstairs before—"

"Excuse me, Feliciano," came a gruff voice and there was a small rustle.

The door suddenly burst open and his father stormed inside, grabbing his arm roughly and aggravating the bruise on his shoulder. Lovino didn't dare make eye contact. His father would take that as an act of defiance and his nightmares would become reality once more.

"You still don't listen, do you boy? We already told you once to get downstairs to eat! It's not your birthday anymore, you goddamn freeloader! Show some fucking respect!" his father pulled him out of his room and shoved Lovino out of his room and the teen was lucky enough to catch his footing before he took too hard of a plummet.

Lovino smoothed out his wrinkled shirt and headed for the dining table, making sure to be rid of the fear starting to make its way onto his expression. Feliciano and his mother were already setting the table when Lovino approached. The teen made sure not to look too flustered. He didn't want to see the sorrow in his mother's eyes. Feliciano, however, glanced at his older brother before tearing his gaze away like a frightened animal.

"There you are, Lovino, dear!" his mother smiled. "I didn't want your food to get cold."

"Do you need any help, Mother?" Lovino swallowed thickly, feeling his father's icy gaze on him.

"Oh we've got it, dear. Thank you though," she shook her head, scooping the food onto large platters for it to be served. "Go ahead and have a seat."

"No, honey, you and Feliciano sit down. He'll get it," the dark haired man entered the room, placing a hand on his first-born's injured shoulder and squeezed tightly.

Lovino fidgeted unnoticeably at the pain searing down his arm.

"Damiano," Felisa sighed. "It's been a long day. Leave him be. Besides he just turned fourteen. Let him have a few days to himself to celebrate."

"Felisa, he needs to earn his keep. He does nothing but laze around all damn day. Get to it, boy. Tomorrow night you'll cook dinner and clean the house after school. And it better be done to my standards before I get home from work, understand?" Damiano said, shoving Lovino towards the stove.

Lovino didn't answer as he prepared the last of the dishes.

"Didn't you hear me, boy?" Damiano grabbed his son's hand and pressed it to the stove.

There was a loud sizzle and Lovino cried out in pain, trying to pry his hand away. The boy's skin began sticking to the stove in a matter of seconds as it burned past the epidermis and hit the nerves head-on. The sizzling became louder as it singed said nerves.

"Let me go!" Lovino didn't even notice the tears streaming down his face in rivers. _"Please! _Let me go! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Feliciano covered his ears to drown out his brother's pleas and Felisa turned away, unable to listen to her son cry. The youngest son wanted to cry for his brother. What was he supposed to do? Stop his father? There was no possible way to. When he had made such an attempt, Lovino ended up in the hospital for two weeks.

In another cry of agony, Lovino's hand was lifted from the stove top with a sickening tearing sound. Damiano grabbed Lovino by the front of his shirt and pushed him to the floor, stepping on the teen's injured hand.

"When I speak, acknowledge me, you little bastard. I won't tolerate any rudeness in my house, understand? You'd better pray that I won't have to make myself clear a second time," Damiano spit on Lovino's face and turned his back to him.

_CLANK!_

The pot of boiling noodles his father knocked over as he stormed away narrowly missed Lovino's face. The Italian teen could feel the adrenaline pumping through his body when he rolled to his knees and keeled over in anguish. He watched the hissing water for a moment, making sure it wasn't going to reach him.

Conjuring the strength and willpower needed, the young Italian stood on his feet shakily, desperate to control the rising dread. He bit his lower lip, focusing on that pain rather than the one in his hand. The coppery taste of blood soon coated his taste buds and he concentrated on that as well. His mother and brother stood there, as still as statues, watching Lovino endure another "lesson." For nine long years they've had to watch that man beat him within an inch of his life for reasons unknown.

Lovino loved them no less and to be honest, he didn't want them getting involved. He desired nothing more than their safety and if he was the only one being hurt, he was content. These bruises were mere mosquito bites if it meant they would live to see another day. He wanted true happiness, yes. But the means of acquiring it were still… unveiled. This darkness was familiar territory. And sometimes venturing into unfamiliar territory was scarier than leaving the danger at hand.

"Feliciano, go get the first-aid kit," Felisa spoke softly as she hurried tend her son's wound.

Feliciano nodded mutely before leaving the room entirely.

"Let me see it," Felisa held out her hand.

"No, I'm fine, Mom. Don't worry about it," Lovino held his right hand close, fighting off the oncoming tears and the pins and needles stabbing his entire arm.

"Lovino, it's going to get infected if we don't do something about it. We have to take you to the doctor."

"But what about—"

"You know he goes to the basement and doesn't come out until after midnight. We should make it back by then," Felisa kissed Lovino's forehead and aided the teen to his feet.

Using basic medicinal practice to fight off any immediate infection, Felisa snuck her eldest son out to the car, ignoring Lovino's protests that he could walk on his own. Feliciano trailed behind silently, too afraid to even speak. He closed the door quietly on the loud Italian music playing underneath the house.

* * *

"Are you okay, _fratello?" _Feliciano whispered in the darkness of their room. He sniffled quietly as he wiped away his tears. He didn't like seeing his brother this way.

"I'm fine," Lovino replied curtly.

"But your hand… does it hurt?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" Feliciano's tone was a tad bit desperate now.

"Yes."

That was possibly one of the biggest lies Lovino ever told. In reality, Lovino's hand felt that it was ablaze and someone kept adding fuel to the fire, making it spread to his entire arm and rippling towards his torso where the pain subsided just subtly.

"I can go get you some ice or more medicine. The doctor said to apply it when it hurts!" Feliciano sat up, watching his brother's dark figure to see if he would stir. He honestly didn't like these short answers he was getting. "I wouldn't mind at all! I really wouldn't!"

"Feli; I'm all right. I'm going to live. It's only a second-degree burn—nothing serious. I don't need to put on the cream every ten seconds, okay? You don't need to worry yourself to death. You'll make yourself sick again. And you're going to wake Mom and Dad up with all your yelling," Lovino sighed, growing frustrated.

"It could've gone to third-degree, _fratello! _That's bad!" Feliciano whined, not hearing his brother's warning. Couldn't his brother see that he was worried sick about him? Why didn't he understand that? "I'm sorry that this happened to you, Lovino!"

"Drop it, Feliciano."

"Are you absolutely sure you're okay? Because—"

"What the fuck do you think, Feliciano? Huh! My fucking hand was burned on a hot fucking stove by the man we call father! How the hell do you think I'm feeling! For the record, so you don't ask again, it hurts like all to be damned!" Lovino shot up instantly, his eyes burning with the tears as he had put too much pressure on his right hand.

Feliciano's mouth hung slightly agape in a quiet gasp, the hurt evident on his face. In a small, fluid motion, the youngest Italian laid back down, muttering, "I'm sorry I asked."

Lovino mentally cursed himself for acting so short with his brother. The boy of only twelve didn't deserve it. He was only asking questions because he was concerned. And out of pent up animosity, Lovino snapped. He sighed. He didn't want to end up like his dad, so full of anger and hatred. But he knew of nothing else.

The teenager brought his legs up to his chest, locked his arms around them tightly and closed his eyes, humming a song quietly to himself. He instantly felt safe and secure. This was his own little bubble where no one could touch him. This was the only time he had such feelings.

_March 19__th__, 2008—_

_It sucks having to learn how to write with my left hand. I'll be surprised if I'll be able to even read this chicken scratch tomorrow or whenever I decide to write in this stupid journal again. It might be a hard and annoying habit to pick up but I'll do it for Feliciano's sake. He draws in the sketchbook every day so it's the least I could do for him, I guess._

_I can only pray that Father doesn't find this journal. If he does…_

_My right hand is in more pain than I could have ever imagined. Second-degree burn. Borderline third-degree. I'll have to be taking medication for more than two weeks. Lying to the doctor was a no-brainer. I'm used to lying—I've actually become very good at it. I've had to practice since I was six years old. _

_It wasn't always like this. We were actually happy once, as crazy as that sounds. I was able to call him father and he wouldn't frown at me or hit me. He would smile. And it was a genuine smile. Mother laughed back then, too. It wasn't forced. It was natural. Feliciano was still a baby at that time._

_Do I put the blame on Feliciano for the way Dad treats me today?_

_That's a good question._


	3. Chapter 2

**Thank you everyone for showing your support on this story! I appreciate it! Now to answer a question that I've seen popping up in some reviews, there is most definitely a reason why Lovino's father treats him the way he does. I'm just not going to reveal it yet. Where's the fun if I can't keep you all in suspense?**

**Happy reading!**

**Warning: Language, violence**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_March 24__th__, 2008—_

_ I managed to clean the house on time the other day before Dad got home with my hand the way it is (it still hurts like hell by the way). Miracle, right? I even finished my homework which I got a decent grade on. I'm not a top-notch student if that's what you're wondering. Mostly B's, a few A's but never any C's. Mom's made my standards perfectly clear. Wondering about Feliciano now? He's excels at that, too. But what else is new?_

_Mr. Edelstein gave me a new piece of music today. He said he wants it memorized just as quickly as I memorized the other one. The other one was easy though—at least I thought so. Feliciano thought it was hard. He also told me I was getting better at this than Feliciano was. I can't even write down how happy that made me._

_Friends of Mom and Dad are supposed to be coming over tonight for dinner. I was told to stay out of sight and unheard until they left. Mom asked this of Dad and to spare me tonight and Father just looked at her. He'll more than likely make me act as a slave and have me serve them and their guests._

_I mean, why wouldn't he? He doesn't acknowledge me as his son—just a boy, an IT._

"_I am ashamed that I helped conceive you," is what he once said to me. At the time I didn't know what conceive meant since I was only 8 years old but I knew it hurt. I knew he was ashamed of me when all I wanted to do was impress him._

_I'm not going to lie: I still want to. I keep waiting for the day he tells me what he tells Feliciano. Hell, I just want him to call me by my first name. But I know that's too much to ask for. The devil wants a glass of cold water but he's not getting it. I can't have what I want._

_Perseverance is key in a situation like this. I keep fighting. I keep getting up after every punch and kick. Falling is easy—it's getting back up that becomes an issue. I'm starting to reach my limit. It can only last so long. That light at the end of the tunnel can only shine so bright for so long before it starts to dim and fade away into the black. I feel like I'm caught in the middle. It's a double-edged sword. If I go towards the light and escape, I'm dead. If I stay here… I'm dead._

_I promise that if I have children I will never treat them like this. I won't even physically discipline them. A good scolding should do the trick. I'm going to be a man and treat my children with respect and tell them I love them every single day—_

"Boy! Get your ass down here!" his father boomed from downstairs.

Lovino stopped midsentence and tossed his journal into the compartment in the floor and shut it as quickly as he could albeit clumsily. He hopped off his bed and hurried down the stairs to see what his father could possibly want. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Feliciano was seated next to his mother and both didn't attempt making eye contact with the teen.

Lovino stared at the floor as his father approached, waiting to be given permission to look at the man.

"Pick your head up," Damiano growled.

Hesitant emerald met with vindictive ones of the same hue. How he hated those eyes. He shared those eyes with a monster. Everything about Lovino screamed his father—he hated that. He hated being compared to his father, even if it was physical appearance only. People knew he was offspring of a monster because of their agonizing similarities. Feliciano, however, was blessed with their mother's angelic features.

It had been carved into stone before they were even born. Their destinies were already set out before them, both very different from the other. One was of anguish and isolation. The other was filled with love and comfort. They, of course, wanted to travel down the same path but it wasn't meant to be.

Lovino wasn't born for the rose and pearl. He was born for the weeds and coal.

"Now listen to me," Damiano started. "In just a little while, friends of ours we haven't seen since you were born will be arriving and I am _not _going to let you fuck it up. You are to stay in your room and not come out unless _I _tell you to do so. Understand?"

The teen nodded.

There would be no dinner for Lovino Vargas that night. It was fine, of course. This wouldn't be the first time he would have to go without food. There was one time he didn't have food for almost three days straight and was resorted to digging out of the garbage like an animal.

His father had found out and made him throw it up that same day. Those three days increased to a week and this time the man made sure to cover the thrown out food with household cleaners and rat poison so it wouldn't happen again. That was the longest week of Lovino's life.

"I want you to do something else for me that I meant to have you do a long time ago," Damiano scanned the photos around the room before turning back to his eldest son. "Remove every single photo you're in from around the house and put them in the attic. We can burn them later."

"Damiano!" his mother shrieked as if that was going too far.

Lovino scoffed inwardly. Where was she when he was being thrown down the stairs? Where was she when his hand was being burned on the stove? Where was she when he had been struck with a crowbar and had broken four ribs? Where was she when he was starved and weakened from malnourishment? Or when he had to be admitted into the hospital? What about the time he had been told to stand outside in the freezing rain and was sick with pneumonia for two weeks?

She wasn't there. And now she was throwing a fit over some pictures. Where was the logic in that? He hated how much he loved his mother sometimes.

"I want every trace that you live here gone. You do not exist in this family," Damiano ignored his wife. "Get whatever you need out of here and take it to your room. I don't want to see your face for the rest of the night. You're dismissed."

Moving without much thought, Lovino gathered all the pictures he was featured in from the walls and around the living room and placed them in a stack. Then came the photo album where he pulled out the photos of him as a newborn and his early toddler years. About two or three pages in the photos of solely him stopped and shifted to him and Feliciano before finally he faded from the album entirely.

Lovino made his way up to the attic noiselessly, coughing from the dust that was stirred up from opening the door. Light seeped in from a single window and the teen brushed away the cobwebs surrounding him. Traversing the cluttered area, he placed the captured memories inside a dusty trunk that held few of his toys and clothes from when he was a baby. His father was supposed to burn these, too. The man just never got around to it. Or rather he _couldn't _get around to it. Lovino had made sure to bury the chest deep within the attic and to hide it underneath musty clothes and behind old furniture.

Those few items were the only mementos left to show that he truly existed in this dysfunctional family. His father had gotten rid of everything else. It was there one day and then the next it was just gone. No one knew what his father had done with it. His mother had thrown a fit, of course, but what could she really do?

Nothing. But she was pretty good at doing nothing. It was a full time job now.

Pushing the chest back to its original place and covering it once again with clothes and other useless junk, Lovino climbed back down to retrieve his sheet music and a few books to keep him occupied. When he had entered the living room again, he had become nothing but white noise to the rest of his family as he shuffled about quietly and effectively.

"Not a peep," Damiano spoke so suddenly it made chills rush from the crown of Lovino's head to his heels. "If I hear anything it'll be worse than just a burned hand and a black eye."

Knowing not to speak, Lovino nodded and retreated to his room for the night.

* * *

She hummed a merry tune as she poured the hot tomato soup into the bowl and turned off the stove. She then made her way into the bathroom where she grabbed a bottle of ammonia before returning to the kitchen where she easily poured a spoonful of it into the soup and stirred it thoroughly. She stuffed it back into the cabinet for household cleansers. Placing it on a tray with a glass of apple juice, the woman took it to her son's room for it to be eaten.

"Good morning, my dear," she smiled sweetly. "I have some soup for you~"

The sickly boy sat up mechanically with a giant smile on his face. Even though his body was weak and fragile, nothing could take away the light in his jade eyes. That sparkle was there every day and, combined with his charming smile; it even rivaled the sun itself.

Adelita Carriedo placed the tray on her son's lap, "Now don't tell me it tastes funny, Antonio. You know I don't like that. I made it with every ounce of love I have."

"I know, Mama," Antonio began eating it quickly, ignoring its strange taste.

He hadn't been able to hold anything he ate down as of late. It all came up shortly after he had eaten it and then his stomach would twist and turn into unbearable knots. He honestly hoped this sickness wouldn't last long and that his mother would be able to help him get better. Since she was practicing to be a nurse, she was adamant that she could cure her son of whatever virus this was and a professional doctor wasn't needed.

Antonio Carriedo, age 15, had been sick for as long as he could remember. When he was finally starting to recover from one illness another would soon take hold. It was normal. He was told by his mother it was due to a weak immune system that could hardly fight off the common cold. Of course he believed what she told him. What child wouldn't trust the woman that birthed them?

The frail teen continued to slurp it down as Adelita ran her fingers through her son's matted curls with a smile on her face. She would take Antonio to the doctor another day when the ammonia would be washed out of his system. She just loved doctor's offices. She loved the attention her child received while visiting. But what pleased her most was the fact that she could deceive the doctors without even trying.

"How is he doing?" Emilio asked once his wife returned to the kitchen.

"Hopefully he'll be able to keep it down this time. He's always saying my food tastes funny. Silly boy. I think the sickness is getting to him," she tittered lightly at the end of her sentence.

"Shouldn't we take him to a doctor?" he asked.

"I'll take him sometime next week," Adelita pulled out two more bowls. "Want some tomato soup?"

"Sure," Emilio shrugged nonchalantly and sat at the table.

There was a short silence that settled over the house until it was broken by the sound of running feet and Antonio emptying out the contents in his stomach.

* * *

Lovino scribbled in some notes on his sheet music and made revisions, not caring what Mr. Edelstein would say. What he was doing would make it sound better, he thought. If he couldn't impress his family then damn it, he was going to impress his piano teacher! At his lesson today, Mr. Edelstein said that he was learning faster than his brother. And that made Lovino's heart swell with pride.

An idea suddenly struck the teen. What if he wrote his own music?

Surely… surely that'll get Mr. Edelstein's attention even more.

Finding some blank sheet music among his lessons, the teen read the sticky note that was placed on the small stack. He immediately recognized the Austrian's handwriting.

_Surprise me, _it read.

Lovino listened to the sweet tune playing in his head, letting his heart place the notes on the staff, whether it was in mezzo piano or piano, and how it would flow. He could hear it all in his head. It came so easily to him just like drawing came so easy to Feliciano. He had finally found something worthwhile!

He imagined the piano in front of him and placed his fingers in their beginning positions, hearing himself play. He began losing himself in the music, finding joy in it. However, new voices from downstairs brought him back to the real world.

"_It's been forever since we last saw you two!"_

That was a man's voice.

"_Oh my gosh, is this Feliciano? He's gotten so big! And so cute!"_

Female.

Lovino made his way to the door and cracked it open just enough to hear the conversation. He even dared to peek around the corner to watch them.

"How old are you now?" the woman asked.

"Twelve," Feliciano definitely had a chipper smile.

"Twelve already? How time flies! Felisa, didn't you have another son? An older one?"

"Yes," Damiano answered for his wife. "But he passed away shortly after he was born. The cause was unknown. We… don't really like to speak of it. We try not to think of it but it's hard, you know?"

"I understand completely," she said with sympathy thick in her tone.

Lovino shut the door to his bedroom.

_March 24__th__, 2008—_

_I'm dead to them._


	4. Chapter 3

**Wow! My email was blown up today from all the alerts/favorites/reviews! I cannot even AKJDALDJALDJALDJ!**

**Ahem. Sorry about that. I got a little carried away there. Anywho... THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT. Words cannot express my immense gratitude so instead of me writing a long and sappy author's note, I am updating with another chapter that I wrote in a single day. Every single one of you deserve it. I couldn't respond to a lot of reviews because a) my dad was being a douche bag and b) I WAS SO EXCITED TO GET THIS CHAPTER OUT**

**Reason B was the culprit, however.**

**Oh and I've thrown in some... past references in here. Can you catch them? I'm sure you'll be able to.**

**If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to leave it in a review or PM me and I will answer as soon as I can and as best I can without ruining the story. I'm going out of town this weekend but I'll try to respond via phone.**

**Happy reading!**

**Warning: Language, violence**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_March 24__th__, 2008—_

_Mom and Dad's friends are still here even though it's well past midnight and Feliciano and I have to go to school tomorrow. Their loud laughter is an obvious sign they've been drinking—or at least Father has. I've heard my parents sing his praises all night long and it's driving me nuts. To overhear that I'm dead… hurt more than I thought it would. My existence has been erased. I knew I didn't matter but…_

_On a lighter note, I managed to finish my very own song. I'm proud of it, if I do say so myself. It's about two minutes long and I made it in about 45 minutes to an hour. I poured my heart and soul into it, as pathetic as that sounds. Hopefully Mr. Edelstein will be pleased with it. I know I am. I named it Love is Pain. I wonder if it sounds interesting enough. If he's not impressed then I don't even know anymore. I'll probably continue to play since it's the only thing I have in this world._

_I'm bored._

_I'm hungry._

_I need to go to the bathroom._

_I'm lonely. _

_I'm unwanted._

_I wonder what they would do if I really was to die tonight. Would they cry? Would they rejoice? Would they even care? I've thought about death more times than I can count. I've… even attempted it—suicide, I mean. I figured anything was better than this fucking hell I'm living in. It would be a few seconds of pain. Then everything would go numb. And dark. All they need is Feliciano right? Their fucking pride and joy—their angel sent from Heaven above! They'll be happy then! They'll be happy when I'm gone! They'll dance on my grave and curse me to eternal damnation since that's where I supposedly spawned from according to Father. He insisted that I was made from the fiery depths of Hell and sent to Earth since even the devil didn't want me. Did Mother object? Of course not. She just held onto Feliciano tightly while there was insult added to injury._

_I often imagine Mother holding me tightly like that. She used to hold me like that all the time when I was little. It felt good. I knew I mattered and that I had a special place in the hearts of two people I trusted most. I don't have that feeling anymore. I miss how it felt to love and be loved. I haven't heard the words "I love you" since I was six years old. Those words are not allowed to be said to me. It is strictly taboo._

_Miraculously, I managed to stop myself from putting the knife through my chest. Feliciano was there to remind me that I was loved by both him and Mother. It's hard to believe it sometimes when I'm getting thrown around like a damn rag doll and all they do is sit around and watch like it's some kind of fucking spectator sport._

Lovino stored his journal away again. Having two entries on the same day bothered him a bit but what was he supposed to do? He was being kept prisoner in his room so there was no way he could go downstairs and practice his new song. Another problem was that he had to go to the bathroom. He had been holding it in for over an hour now, hoping that the visitors would leave.

_As long as the wine holds out there's no way in hell this party is ending soon, _Lovino thought, sliding off his bed. He then remembered there were two large racks of wine down in the basement. He couldn't hold it anymore! He had to go! What did his father expect him to do? Urinate on the floor?

Slipping on some socks, Lovino shuffled across the floor and opened his bedroom door to listen. The conversation downstairs was light and everyone seemed to be engrossed in it. But Lovino knew better. His father was there, listening for even the slightest flutter from his eldest son.

Daring to open the door further, Lovino glided out of his room and into the dark hallway and tested each floorboard as though his life depended on it. And it did. He gulped. Another step. Nothing. Good. Another. Keep going. He could do this. He had to do this lest he be humiliated for the rest of his godforsaken life.

_Creak…!_

Lovino cringed and tensed, listening for his father's earsplitting yells and monstrous footsteps. The teen's heart thundered in his ears, threatening to jump out of his chest.

_Ba-dump!_

_Ba-dump!_

_Ba-dump!_

He breathed an audible sigh of relief when he still heard the conversation going on downstairs and continued his careful trek to the bathroom. With a hand only inches away from the bathroom, a shadow along the wall caught his attention and he froze completely. He watched it with fretful emerald orbs…

…as it grew closer…

…and closer.

"_Fratello," _Feliciano whispered. "What are you doing?"

"Going to the bathroom," Lovino murmured. "Is that a crime?"

"What if you get in trouble?" Feliciano was now standing at his brother's side. "You know Papa won't be happy if he catches you."

"Who gives a damn what he thinks?" Lovino was trying to sound brave. "It makes no difference to me. He's your father, not mine, remember?"

The younger brother's shoulders slumped a bit and his eyes grew sad. What was he supposed to say to that? Lovino was right, after all.

"Now go. I'm going to get caught," Lovino shooed Feliciano away.

The auburn haired boy spun on his heel and turned to retreat to their room. But a shadow on the wall made him halt and scurry back to his brother's side. A voice in their hearing range made both boys jump.

"It's just up here right?"

"_Yes," _Felisa answered from downstairs. _"The bathroom is straight down the hall. You can't miss it."_

"That's Mama's friend. Hide!" Feliciano pushed themselves into the bathroom and shut the door. The duo hurried into the glass shower where they tried to hide effectively. The ice patterned glass made their figures distorted but one would still notice if they were paying attention.

"You stupid idiot!" Lovino hissed. "That woman was coming in here!"

"I'm sorry, _fratello, _I panicked! I didn't know what else to do! I'm sorry! Don't be—"

"Shh! She's coming!" Lovino covered his brother's mouth with his hand and placed a finger to his lips. "Don't make a sound. Don't move. Don't even breathe. She'll freak out if she finds us."

The bathroom door opened and closed and the boys listened to the sound of the woman's footsteps as she made her way to the toilet. Both didn't dare to even fidget within the confined space. They breathed in shallowly but they were certain their pounding hearts would give away their position.

Feliciano's face scrunched up strangely, hinting that he had to sneeze. Lovino shook his head and waved his hands in small back and forth motions, begging Feliciano to hold it in. The younger's face relaxed as the sneeze subsided and Lovino placed a hand over his racing heart as the toilet flushed.

The sounds of running water indicated that the woman was washing her hands.

_Hurry up and get the hell out of here! _Lovino urged in his thoughts, gritting his teeth in anxiety. He wasn't going to make it to the toilet at this rate!

_Ah-choo!_

Feliciano sneezed without warning and Lovino jumped, letting out a small yelp in surprise. The shower door opened then and the brothers smiled nervously at the woman looming over them with wide eyes.

She let out a shriek, "What the hell are you boys doing in here! Little perverts!"

The rumbling of footsteps could be heard approaching and Lovino closed his eyes, waiting for the worst. Feliciano clung onto the hem of Lovino's shirt, fearing for his brother. The other three adults filed into the bathroom, getting a look at the two boys cowering in the shower.

"Feliciano, you're supposed to be in bed," Felisa reprimanded.

"_Mi dispiace, _Mama. Lovino and I were just playing hide-and-seek, weren't we?" Feliciano looked at his brother with a troubled smile.

"Uh… yeah. Hide-and-seek," Lovino agreed quietly. He didn't dare look up. The look in his father's eyes was apparent. He was up shit creek without a paddle.

"Who is the other boy?" the man was confused. "I assume one of Feliciano's friends?"

"Yeah," Damiano nodded rigidly.

"Odd though, he looks just like you, Damiano!" the woman joked, laughing lightly. "He could be your son!"

Lovino felt the hatred bubble inside of him. It happened again. He was being compared to that monster. He didn't see it. He more like refused to see it. If they ever took the chance to know Lovino, they would see he is nothing like his father. _Nothing._

Damiano ignored her, "Feliciano, take your friend to your room. It's time for bed."

"Yes sir. Come on, _fratello," _Feliciano didn't even realize his mishap and pulled his brother along.

Lovino noticed however and Damiano's glare made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

_You'll pay for this, _his eyes snarled.

Behind the safety of their bedroom door, Lovino ripped his hand out of Feliciano's and curled up on his bed with his back facing the other boy in the room. Feliciano watched his brother for a few moments, not exactly knowing what to say or do.

"I'm sorry, _fratello. _I didn't mean to get you in trouble," Feliciano fidgeted where he was standing and crossed his arms over his chest in an anxious manner.

"Just… don't talk to me right now, okay? Let me enjoy these few moments in the comfort of my own bed while I still have them," Lovino's voice was shaking horribly, exposing the fear racking his frame.

"_Fratello—"_

"I'm asking nicely, Feliciano," behind Lovino's request was painful emphasis. "Go to sleep."

The older brother waited until Feliciano was settled before continuing, "And no matter what you hear… do not come out of the bedroom."

The silence was deafening as it settled over them as they waited for what was to come. And Lovino braced himself for the pain.

* * *

"_Get up!"_

The covers were torn off his body and he was dumped out of his bed and onto the floor. Still half-asleep, Lovino had hit his head on the floorboard and shock from the headache jolted him awake.

Feliciano shot up from his slumber, watching the scene with wild amber eyes, "Papa! What're you—!"

"Go back to sleep, Feliciano. It needs to be taught a lesson," Damiano directed his gaze at his youngest son and said boy recoiled from such eyes.

In a daze, Lovino was then pulled to his feet by his injured hand and pushed down the flight of stairs. The teen toppled harder than a sack of bricks and let out a small _"oof!" _when he reached the bottom. He grunted as he struggled to gather his bearings and get to his knees. A big mistake on his part.

A solid kick landed itself square into his ribcage and there was a sickening crunch. Lovino cried out as a flame ignited where the bone had been broken. He clutched his at his wounded side, fighting back the tears that were just itching to spill.

"Aah! Aah!" he let out short gasps. He wanted to scream though. He wanted to yell until his lungs burst. He wanted his father to hear how much pain he was in. But the man knew. And said man had yet to be satisfied.

"You can't do anything right can you, boy?" Damiano lifted his son up by his mop of dark hair and Lovino's nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol burning his nostrils.

A punch in the jaw that sent Lovino flying across the floor was next.

"I give you one simple order! _One! _And you can't even do that!" Damiano sounded baffled. It was all an act as the man paced, trying to think of what to do next.

Lovino brawled with the pain as he rolled to his knees, coughing horribly. He tried not to breathe too heavily as he didn't know how bad his ribcage was damaged. He didn't need a punctured lung.

"Stay down, you filth!" Damiano kicked Lovino again and slammed his foot into Lovino's side.

The broken rib grinded against the others and another bloodcurdling _crack_ was heard as another bone was snapped in two. Lovino bit his lip and blood ran down the side of his mouth. Some of it seeped on his tongue and it sent the coppery tasting liquid down his throat.

"Was what I told you too much to handle? I simply asked you to disappear and what do you do? You _appear. _And in the bathroom, no less. What were you doing? Spying on my guest?" Damiano dug the heel of his shoe into Lovino's ribs.

"N-No! I wasn't—!" the teen used all of his strength to remove his father's foot but this only made Damiano lodge it in even further and Lovino's hands fell to his side as he writhed and whimpered.

"Then what the _fuck _were you doing in the goddamn shower, huh! Answer me that! Quit crying like the little bitch you are and start talking!"

_It'd be easier if your foot wasn't in my side, asshole! _Lovino spat inside his head.

Lovino swallowed the dry lump in his throat and grunted when his father put on more pressure.

"I can't hear you! Speak up!"

"I-I had to use the bathroom…! That's i-it!" Lovino continued trying to pry his dad's foot off, sick of the bones gnashing against one another. The pain was too much. He might just vomit and call it quits.

"You could've pissed yourself for all I care! I gave you instructions and you downright disobeyed me! For that, you must be punished!" Damiano picked up Lovino by his shirt.

From atop the stairs, Feliciano witnessed another one of his brother's beatings. There was so much he didn't understand. Why did his father treat Lovino like this and not him? It didn't make any sense. Parents are supposed to treat their children equally. Another question that he asked himself was why didn't Lovino just stay in the room like he was told to do? It would spare him the agony and humiliation. Lovino knew better than to defy their father and yet he still did it anyway. Was he just a glutton for punishment?

The twelve year old jumped back as he saw Lovino being tossed around like he was a softball. Damiano was so much stronger than the two of them. He could kill Lovino if he wanted to!

Blow after blow…

Kick after kick…

It didn't stop.

It never would.

As long as Lovino had an ounce of breath in his young body, the punishments wouldn't end.

In a drunken rage and with a filter of red clouding his vision, the man had lost count how long he had been "punishing" his son and let the boy's battered body crumple to the floor without even a second glance. Damiano then exited and went into the basement where loud Italian music burst from behind the door.

The last thing Lovino saw was Feliciano running towards him as the darkness took hold…

* * *

"_Papa! Papa!" a child with a bright smile ran up to his father. "Look what I made for Mama!"_

_The man turned to face his son and knelt down to inspect said gift. It was a flower made out of colorful tissue paper and a green craft pipe cleaner as the stem. He could see the immense effort the boy put into it and was nonetheless proud of his son._

_The man smiled and placed his hand atop the boy's head, mussing the dark brown locks, "Yes. I'm sure she'll love it, Lovino. You don't need to worry about that."_

_Lovino's eyes lit up even more and took his father's hand, pulling him into the house excitedly. The young man kept his soft smile, enjoying the twinkle in the boy's eyes. But then that smile faded. Damiano couldn't forget his other son. That was the last time Lovino Vargas would ever see that smile directed at him. And he didn't even have a chance to cherish it._

"…vino. Lovino. Lovino!" a hand shook his shoulder and he jumped away from the contact, successfully scaring the person who woke him. The area where the hand touched was still very sensitive.

"What happened? Where am I?" the Italian asked, his mind still in a sleepy haze.

"You fell asleep in class again," the girl next to him replied, holding her books close to her chest. Her jade eyes were staring at the purple bruise surrounding Lovino's left eye. She then caught herself and tore her gaze away. "Everyone's already gone out to lunch."

Upon recognizing the girl, he sighed, "O-Oh. I'm sorry, Bella. I just didn't get much sleep last night."

"Obviously! This is the umpteenth time you've passed out in class," Elizabeta Héderváry chimed in with her hands on her hips like a mother scolding her child. "The teacher's patience is wearing thin with you, Lovino."

"I know, I know. My mom's been getting phone calls," Lovino gathered up his belongings, making sure his journal was well hidden within his other books.

"Are you joining us for lunch today? There's a new girl here and I invited her to eat with us. I hope that's okay. She came all the way from Liechtenstein!" Bella twirled a lock of her blonde hair with her finger.

"I have to go visit the nurse again so it doesn't matter," the teenage boy shrugged, heading for the door. "I might catch up with you guys at the end."

"Lovino," Elizabeta called out with an austere look and continued when Lovino paused. "You know you have to get out of there, don't you?"

"I'm well aware," he said.

"Then why don't you go? It makes no sense to stay there! He'll kill you!" the Hungarian girl's voice broke in a few places. "You'll die there!"

Elizabeta was telling him what he already knew. Lovino had predicted long ago that one day his father would ultimately do the job and get rid of him for good. And oddly enough, he was okay with that. The darkness was a familiar place. He found comfort in it.

He didn't want to be afraid anymore. He was tired of paying the price for simply breathing. It was a luxury he shouldn't have. He was tired of being tired. There was safety in the darkness. It meant that even if his father was beating him senseless, he wouldn't feel a thing. It was a numbness he appreciated.

"To each his own," and Lovino disappeared down the hall.

Upon entering the nurse's office, Lovino sat on the recovery couch so the woman could do her routine inspection. Mrs. Russo was a friendly young woman with curly brunette hair, oceanic eyes and a light complexion. She also had children of her own: a fifteen year old son and a three year old daughter. Marcello and Camille were their names.

Lovino had never met them before. Her son went to a different school entirely. Since this was Mrs. Russo's last year as this school's nurse, he didn't feel the need to meet him. She and her family were going to move to America because of some unknown issues going on here in Italy. It wasn't any of Lovino's business so he didn't pry.

"All right, Mr. Vargas, if you would remove your shirt please," Mrs. Russo closed the door to her office and slipped her hands into latex gloves.

Lovino gulped inaudibly and painstakingly removed the article of clothing, revealing the dark bruises beginning to appear on his torso. The area where Damiano had struck Lovino's torso was a red-violet color and it outlined each one of the ribs the man had made contact.

Mrs. Russo inspected them intuitively, ghosting her fingers across his skin and took note of how Lovino's face creased in pain. The other dark splotches on his body were in many shapes—most were circular while others where in the form of what looked like fingers, evidence that someone had grabbed the teen much too hard.

"So what happened this time?" Mrs. Russo examined Lovino's neck and saw the same finger marks there.

"I fell down the stairs," Lovino answered automatically.

"Again? You had that same excuse two weeks ago," the woman said, obviously not convinced.

"Well I'm a clumsy person. People fall all the time—the world's an imperfect place," Lovino didn't make eye contact with the nurse.

"Is this black eye a result of you falling down the stairs, too?" she touched the tender area and Lovino pulled away from her fingertips.

"No; I got hit in the face with a football. Feliciano kicked it when I wasn't ready."

"Ah, I see," Mrs. Russo removed her gloves. "However, I don't think you're telling me the truth."

"What do you mean?" Lovino tried to sound offended. "Of course I am! I have no reason to lie!"

Mrs. Russo put up her hands in a placating gesture, "I'm only stating the opinion which I am entitled to. Now, when you go home today I want your parents to take you to the hospital to get some x-rays done. From what I can see, your ribs are definitely bruised. Maybe even fractured. If left untreated, it can turn drastic."

"Okay," Lovino carefully put his shirt back on and made his way to the door.

"Oh, Lovino, before you go, I almost forgot to ask you: do you have anything to eat for lunch today?"

Lovino's hesitation was all she needed and the woman reached into her purse to fish out her wallet. The Italian teen watched her in disbelief. She wasn't really going to…?

"Here," she held out the money to him. "You need it more than I do."

"I-I can't take that. I really can't," Lovino shook his head. His father told him he couldn't have food for a week and if he continued to misbehave it would be extended to two weeks. His stomach objected and growled loudly and demanded that Lovino take the money.

"See? You know you're hungry," Mrs. Russo placed the money in the student's palm. "You need to eat. You're thin enough as it is. And don't even think about trying to pay me back."

"T-Thank you…" Lovino stumbled over his words.

"No need to thank me. Now run along and go get yourself something to eat. I know you're dying to," she smiled and waved him off.

Lovino didn't need to be told twice.

_March 25__th__, 2008—_

_Mrs. Russo was kind enough to give me some money for lunch today. I basically owe that woman my life. It'll be a long week without breakfast or dinner but I've made it through once so I can do it again. I just hope I won't get caught. Feliciano took it upon himself to bring me small rations of food late at night when Mother and Father have gone to bed. It's a risky but noble sacrifice._

_I won't be able to show Mr. Edelstein my song until I'm in Father's good graces again (when has that ever happened?). So to pass the time I'll keep composing my own music and wait for Mr. Edelstein's opinion on it. Hopefully he won't be disgusted with it. This is the hardest I've worked on anything in a long time._

_Also, there's someone moving in next door to us. Mother says they're a family of three and there's a boy my age. She hopes we'll be friends and I'll be able to get out of the house for once. She just has to talk to Father about it. There's no need for her to. I already know where this is going._

_I still can't help but be curious though._

_I wonder what this boy is like._


	5. Chapter 4

**Longest chapter ever! And every single one of you deserve it! I want to thank you all so much! I worked hard on this chapter and I hope to satisfy you all! I won't keep you with a long author's note.**

**One more thing before I go: there is a poll up and running on my profile. Now I know I said I would finish Midnight's Kiss before Midnight's Hymn but I want YOU, my lovely readers, to decide which I should update most often and/or finish first. It's all up to you! I would appreciate it if you would vote!**

**Thank you!**

**Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language, violence**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_March 26__th__ 2008—_

_After what happened last night, Father threatened that I would no longer be sharing a room with Feliciano. I would have to sleep in the attic on an old army cot. He said filthy animals don't get to sleep with the family. If that day ever comes, I would have to be extra careful about relocating my jar of saved money and journal—the last thing I want is Father finding them. I decided they're going to be hidden inside the old trunk with all my other things. Mother agreed to help me get situated and make sure there were no spiders (not that I'm afraid of them or anything!)._

_I could hardly go to sleep last night because my sides hurt so badly. The bruises are getting darker and larger and my torso is swollen red. It hurts to even breathe. I just know there's a broken bone or two. I told Mother what Mrs. Russo said at school yesterday. She told me we would have to wait until Father had another one of his drinking episodes and passed out in the basement. The problem is we don't know when that will be. It usually happens after he beats the shit out of me but he goes down to the basement and drinks randomly sometimes if he's too tired to deal with me._

_I pray for those days every time I hear the front door open._

_Today wasn't one of those days._

_Father had picked me up from school early today and it was right after lunch. Elizabeta and Bella were kind and lucky enough to sneak some extra food—like a tomato or apple, maybe some carrots—into their lunches for me so I had gotten a little something in my stomach. They used to bring me a lot more but Father had discovered I was getting food someway somehow and called their parents to tell them that I had been begging them for food when I already had plenty to eat. From that point on Elizabeta's and Bella's parents packed their lunches like they were back in fucking primary school. That meant I had nothing to eat anymore and I didn't want to resort to stealing or digging through the garbage again. You can only imagine the beating I got after Father hung up with their parents. I didn't go to school for three days straight._

_But hey, a kid's gotta eat right?_

_When Father and I got home, he made me throw up everything I had eaten. He said I won't be going to school for the rest of the week and didn't care if my grades suffered. He even threatened to unregister me. Right now he's gone back to work and I have to complete my daily chores before he comes home. He's locked up the refrigerator and freezer so I don't have access to any leftovers. The food in the trashcan has been covered with ammonia and other household cleaners so I can't dig through it. What's in the cabinets requires cooking or is just spices so I'm debating whether I want a foodborne illness or starvation. I'll get back on that._

_I managed to get a look at the new kid next door from the attic window earlier. He looks like he hasn't eaten in years. He's unbearably thin—maybe even thinner than me. It's amazing how he was walking around outside without being blown away by the wind! He's tall though so it only adds to his awkward stature. Well, maybe not that tall. He's taller than me, that's for sure. I'm 5'6" so he's probably 5'8" or 5'9"; I might grow a few more inches so don't count me out yet!_

_I might go visit him today. I might. If time allows, that is. My priorities come first before anything else. I don't want any more broken ribs or bruises. Too many people are asking questions at school now and my excuses aren't working. I need to stay out of trouble and be the good servant I am—_

Lovino stopped right there. What in the hell had he just written? He scanned over his last words and his mouth fell open in a silent gasp before he erased the words furiously. What was he thinking? He wasn't anyone's servant! He wasn't some property to be branded and owned!

He didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe that his father's words had dug their way into his head and rooted themselves there. What scared him was that he hadn't even noticed that tiny seed had sprouted into an ugly weed and was destroying him from the inside out.

Just like he was destroying his family…

"No! Stop it!"Lovino tried to beat those thoughts. "You're not doing any harm to your family. You're simply existing and doing as you're told."

_That's a crime in itself, _the voice in his head hissed wickedly. It was his father's voice. It was such a nasty tone that continued to spew insults at him.

Lovino tried to ignore it as he climbed down the flight of stairs to the kitchen. He prepared the bucket full of soap water and grabbed a sponge. Placing the container on the floor and getting to his knees, he dipped it into the bucket and proceeded in scrubbing the tile floor.

Once he was finished with that he had to clean and polish the table, wash the dishes, and take out the trash. But there was something odd about today. There wasn't as big of a mess as there usually was. Did they not have a big breakfast like they do every morning? A piece of lone paper on the bare refrigerator caught his attention and he plucked off the magnet holding it.

_We tried to help as much as we could._

_Love, _

_Mom_

A smile twitched at the corners of Lovino's mouth. That's why there weren't as many dishes or as much trash lying around. They hadn't cleared all of it for his father to notice but enough to make a difference. After taking out the trash and polishing the table, he filled the sink up with hot water and soap to wash the dishes.

He wasn't even halfway done when the doorbell rang and the teen raised an eyebrow in frustration.

"Who the hell could be bothering me at a time like this? Maybe if I just ignore it they'll go away," Lovino resumed scrubbing the dish.

The doorbell rang twice.

And then a third time.

"Fine! I'm coming, I'm coming!" Lovino dried his hands with a nearby rag and opened the door. "Yeah? What do you want?"

The visitor at his doorstep jumped back a little at his harsh tone.

"Wait a minute… you're the boy from next door—the one who just moved here," Lovino's exacting stare was lightened instantly upon seeing the frail teen.

Now that they were face-to-face, Lovino could finally get a good look at his new neighbor. The boy was definitely taller than he was but not by much. His feeble arms and legs hinted that either he had a really fast metabolism or he was being deprived of food and his washed out complexion meant that he wasn't in the best health condition. But those eyes… those beautiful green eyes held so much life.

It took a moment for the boy to respond, as if he didn't understand what was being said, "Y-Yes…"

His accent wasn't Italian, Lovino noticed. It was different from anything he had ever heard. He couldn't pinpoint where such an accent would come from but all Lovino knew was that he wasn't from Italy. And if he wasn't from Italy then that meant he probably couldn't speak or understand Italian very well. That was the reason for his hesitation. What was his native language then?

"Where are you from?" Lovino asked.

"Oh! Um, I'm from Spain. Sorry for my poor Italian. I'm still learning," the boy's bright grin instantly swept Lovino off his feet.

With cheeks tinted pink, the shorter of the two continued, "What's your name? I'm Lovino."

"My name is Antonio," the Spaniard said fluently. He must've practiced that phrase for a long time. "It's nice to meet you Lovino."

"…same here," Lovino murmured, still not wanting to meet those radiant green eyes and breathtaking smile. He was already turning red enough as it is.

"I take it you don't know Spanish," Antonio's smile was nervous now as he scratched the back of his head.

"No, I don't," Lovino shook his head. "Tell me what you can speak so this'll save us both a fucking headache."

"Um, I know English. My parents made me learn it in case we moved to a place where it was spoken," Antonio answered with a thoughtful look, not at all bothered by Lovino's colorful vocabulary.

"Good because I know English. Anyway, can I ask what the hell you're doing here at my house? I'm kind of busy," Lovino leaned against the doorjamb, switching languages instantly.

"Ah, yes, well, my parents met yours the other day and they were hoping we would be able to hang out sometime. My mom made me come over and say hello. So, uh… hi."

_Your timing is awful, _Lovino commented in his thoughts. "Hello."

"If I may ask, what are you busy doing? I'm a little bored and my mom says I can't help move in," Antonio wondered.

"I'm doing chores," was Lovino's short reply. He was beginning to get a little frustrated with the new kid. There were precious minutes being eaten up here and he still had to clean the living room until not even a single dust bunny remained!

"Oh man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll come by some time tonight I guess~"

"No!" Lovino blurted out, catching the other by surprise. "I mean, not—not tonight. We have this little family bonding thing we like to do on Wednesday nights so it wouldn't be too good of an idea."

"Oh okay. I understand. So when would be a good time for me to come back?" Antonio had that hopeful twinkle in his eyes.

"I'll, uh, I'll come get you," Lovino rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know when I'll be able to but I suppose it's better than nothing."

"All right, sounds good. I'll see you then, Lovino~!" Antonio then left and returned to his new house.

The Italian hurriedly shut the front door and leaned against it with no help from his wobbly legs. What was that just now? Why was his heart on complete overdrive? Why had those butterflies taken flight in his stomach? Why had his breath been stolen? It couldn't have been because the boy next door smiled. It wasn't logical!

He couldn't have… fallen in love at first sight.

That stuff was only in fairytales he was read to as a child! There's no way it could be real! But the way his heart thrummed told him it was all too real. Deciding to brush it off as nothing, Lovino went back to doing his chores to perfection.

* * *

"All right, Lovino. Get in," Felisa said, testing the water in the tub.

Lovino stood there with only a towel around his waist to cover his dignity. He stared at the bathtub with wide emerald eyes. The entire tub was filled with ice water and he shivered just thinking about it. He could practically feel the cold radiating off of it! His mother said this was supposed to reduce the swelling all over his body until they were able to get him into the hospital for x-rays. Lovino looked at his mother as if she had lost her damn mind. And his eyes, she had.

"Mom, I-I can't sit in that," Lovino wrapped the towel tighter around him.

"It's the only way to help until we can get you into the hospital," Felisa sighed. "Now go on—get in. It's only for thirty minutes, an hour at the most."

Lovino simply stood there. He wasn't going to sit in that! It just wasn't going to happen! He figured he'd rather endure the pain in his ribs rather than freeze up like a human Popsicle. He glanced back and forth between his mother's expectant look and the tub. No way. He was _not _going to sit in that.

"Lovino. Get in the tub," Felisa's voice took an unexpected stern tone.

"Mom, I can't sit in that. I can't. I… think I'd rather keep the swelling," Lovino shook his head, backing away from it and his mother.

"Don't make me get your father up here," Felisa said, seeming to be surprised at her own words before wiping that emotion off her face.

Lovino, however, couldn't help the dumbfounded expression slipping in. Did she just threaten to…? No, she couldn't have. She _wouldn't _have. Maybe he heard her wrong. He must've heard her wrong. But the way she wouldn't make eye contact with her eldest son was all the answer he needed.

"Mom… you wouldn't do that… would you? You know how much he hates me," a lump began forming in Lovino's throat.

The woman didn't speak.

"_Why?"_ Lovino choked.

There was a pained look on his mother's face as she avoided meeting his eyes.

"He put you up to this, didn't he? This isn't to help me, is it?" Lovino placed his hand on her forearm and she tore it away.

That had to be the only reason she would be telling him to do this. Damiano told his mother to reason that it would help Lovino with his injuries because the man knew his son would trust Felisa. And it worked.

Felisa headed for the door, "I'll be back in a minute. If you're not in the tub by the time I come back, I'm sending your father in."

It shut softly and her footsteps faded from hearing range. Lovino drew his attention back to the tub. It was either feel the pain now or later. Either way, he was done for. Taking a deep breath, Lovino removed the towel from his body and stuck one foot in only to immediately draw it out.

_You can do this, _he encouraged from his thoughts. _Be strong—don't let him win. He wants to break you and you're not going to let him. You've lasted this long._

Putting the same foot back into the water, Lovino pulled the other foot over the side of and was now standing in the tub, staring at the water with fretful eyes. His feet already felt like icicles. Just imagine what the rest of his body would feel like…

Swallowing thickly, Lovino lowered himself into the ice until only his head was at the surface, hissing as the water touched his skin. He shivered violently as the temperature began to have its effect on his body, shutting down his bodily functions slowly but surely.

_Damn them, _Lovino growled to himself. _Damn them all to hell._

_It's just thirty minutes. You can do this._

_Thirty minutes. That's it._

_Thirty minutes._

_Thirty… long… minutes._

_Thirty… long… agonizing… minutes._

_Breathe. Keep breathing._

_Live. Keep living._

_Don't let your heart stop._

…_no matter how much it wants to._

Lovino closed his eyes, losing himself within his piano composition as it played inside his head. He kept his fingers and toes mobile to fight off the numbness taking root. He took short and shallow breaths and he swore he could see his breath as small puffs of smoke.

_Keep breathing._

_Keep your heart beating._

_Don't let him win. Don't let that son of a bitch win. You're better than that. Be strong and carry on as you always have._

"It's so hard," Lovino shuddered.

_Remind yourself: this is nothing and it will always be nothing. You're strong._

The bathroom door opened and Lovino didn't even flinch.

"Good, you're in," Felisa said. "Thirty minutes, okay? The swelling should've lessened considerably by then. Would you like something to eat when—?"

She stopped when she realized her mistake. Lovino looked at her, not even caring about food. He just wanted his mother to pull him out of the bathtub, wrap him up in a warm towel and hug him tight. He didn't care if he was fourteen years old. He wanted to be loved—to feel its warmth. He coveted it.

"I'll be back when your time's up. Try not to move too much. You know your father has the sharpest hearing ever," she left the room.

Lovino closed his eyes again, drowning in another memory.

. . .

_Two year old Feliciano was on the floor among his toys, cooing innocently. Lovino was lying a few feet away from him, admiring from afar. His little brother was just too cute! For some reason though, he wasn't allowed to touch said baby brother since the latter was born. His father said it was because he was dirty and Feliciano needed to stay clean. Well, Lovino had just taken a bath so he was clean like Feliciano. It must be okay now!_

_The boy crawled towards the toddler and placed his larger hand on Feliciano's. His skin was so soft and smooth! Feliciano gazed at his brother with bright amber eyes and cooed affectionately._

"_What're you doing, boy?" a powerful voice resonated behind him and made him jump. "Get away from my son!"_

_Lovino scrambled away as Damiano lifted Feliciano into his arms._

"_He didn't hurt you, did he Feli?" Damiano inspected the now whimpering child. After doing so, he glared at Lovino, backhanding him in the process. "You filthy boy! I told you to never touch him!"_

_The four year old trembled on the floor, his cheek burning. Why did his daddy hit him? All he wanted to do was play with his baby brother… he wasn't hurting anyone. So why…?_

"_B-But I took a bath, Papa. I'm clean," Lovino stuttered. "Aren't I, Papa?"_

"_You will _never _be clean!" Damiano retorted. "You're filthy! A filthy, filthy boy!"_

_Lovino's eyes moistened with tears. He was… filthy? A filthy boy?_

"_Papa," Lovino sniffled. "I-I want to play with F-Feli. Can I please play with Feli?"_

"_No! You can't! You are too dirty and too bad! You'll make him dirty and bad! Now go!" Damiano turned away from the boy and walked away._

_Large tears spilled over Lovino's round cheeks. He didn't understand. Why was his daddy being so mean to him? Didn't his dad love him? Maybe it was because he didn't bathe properly. Yeah, that's it! He was still stinky! _

_Running up the stairs, Lovino hurried to the bathroom and turned on the tap, watching the water fill the tub with anticipation. He would scrub extra hard this time! He didn't want to be dirty anymore. He wanted to play with his little brother! As the water reached a halfway point, Lovino began removing his clothes. He was down to just his underwear when Felisa came in._

"_Lovino, dear," she shut off the water. "What're you doing? You just took a bath."_

"_I'm dirty," Lovino replied. "Papa said so. I can't play with Feliciano because I'm dirty. I'm a bad boy…"_

_She then caught sight of the bright red mark on Lovino's cheek, "Did he hit you?"_

"_Uh-huh…"_

_The tears involuntarily streamed down again and he shook from the sobs. He brought his small hands up to his eyes to try and stop the annoying liquid but to no avail. Seeing how upset her son was, Felisa brought the boy close and hugged him firmly._

"_Am I bad, Mommy?" Lovino's tiny voice was muffled by his mother's shirt._

"_No, sweetheart, you're not. Daddy's just having a bad day, that's all," Felisa stroked her son's head. "He loves you, okay? Don't forget that."_

_The boy still clung to his mother in his upset._

"_I'll talk to Daddy tonight, okay? He won't hurt you anymore. I promise," Felisa kissed Lovino's forehead, ghosting her fingers along her son's reddened cheek._

_. . ._

"_How dare you hit him like that! He is four years old, Damiano! Four!" Felisa shouted, effectively waking up Lovino from his restless slumber._

"_What difference does it make! He deserved it!" the man barked._

"_What on earth was he doing then? Enlighten me so the next time you decide to discipline him, it'll be with some goddamn self-control!" she demanded._

"_That—that—_murderer _touched my son! He is unclean, Felisa, don't you understand that? He could hurt Feliciano! I can't stand the fact that you allow them to sleep in the same room together!"_

"_Murderer? Lovino is no such thing! He is a pure, innocent, and loving child! He's your son, too, damn it! You helped conceive him!"_

"_No. That boy is no son of mine. I'll burn in Hell before I acknowledge that further," Damiano said all too calmly._

_Lovino sat up in bed, startled by their argument. What was a murderer? It didn't sound like a nice person. He was a nice person. So why did his father call him that? Feliciano cried from his crib across the room, feeling lonely and scared._

"_Shh, it's okay Feli," Lovino climbed out of bed and slipped his hand through the bars and placed it on the baby's chest. "Big brother is here to protect you."_

_Feliciano's cries died down to mere whimpers as he heard a familiar voice in the dim light of the room._

"_Why are you acting like this, Damiano? Lovino loves you, why can't you show him the same?" Felisa tried to reason with her husband._

"_How can I possibly love someone who took the life of another?" Damiano growled._

"_You can't put the blame on someone who was still in the womb at the time!" Felisa was at her wits end._

"_I can do whatever the hell I want," the man said._

"_You're crazy."_

_Lovino continued to listen from beside Feliciano's crib. There was some rustling noises and a thud. At that point, Lovino was becoming concerned. His dad wasn't hitting his mom, was he?_

"_Where do you think you're going?" Damiano demanded._

"_The boys and I are leaving. I can't take living with you if you're going to act like this," she answered._

"_Where are you going to go, Felisa? You can't make it out there on your own. You have no family. Your own father can't stand the sight of you. You're nothing without me!"_

"_I'll find a way," her voice was determined._

"_You can keep your precious Lovino but Feliciano is staying here with me."_

"_The hell he is! I won't let him be raised by some deranged man like you!" the woman shouted. "My sons and I are leaving!"_

"_Then maybe I should just get rid of the main reason we're arguing. He's sleeping right now. I'll just throw him into the shittiest orphanage I can find and be done with it."_

"_You wouldn't dare put a hand on my son!" Felisa snarled._

"_I can and I will. You're the only one who wants him, Felisa. I could care less what happens to the kid."_

. . .

"_Fratello."_

A warm hand jolted him back to reality and he gasped from the sudden contact.

"Feli? What're you doing here?" he sat up too fast and the water sloshed in the tub.

"Mama said you could get out now," the younger of the two held out a towel and Lovino hastily grabbed it.

The teen tried to warm himself as quickly as he could but the towel was soon damp. He stood there shivering with chattering teeth. Feliciano suddenly hugged his brother and though the latter appreciated the warmth, he had to ask.

"What're y-you d-doing?"

"If we let the blood from your body rush back to your heart too quickly… your heart could fail," Feliciano explained.

"W-Where did you learn that?"

"I read it in one of the old medical books from the attic. I was bored," Feliciano smiled up at his brother.

Lovino's violet stained lips returned it.

"Oh, _fratello! _I almost forgot! I brought you some orange slices. I managed to sneak some past Father," Feliciano pulled out the pieces of fruit wrapped in a napkin.

Lovino breathed out an audible sigh of relief, "T-Thank you, Feli."

"You're welcome!" the younger grinned.

The teen quickly wolfed down the mouthwatering fruit and his stomach was soon begging for more.

"I'll try to get an apple or some bread tonight. I can't promise it though," Feliciano was about to leave the bathroom when Lovino stopped him.

"Why are you doing this, Feli? Why are you putting yourself at risk… for me?"

"Well, you're always taking the blame for everything I do, so… it's time I did something for you. If I get caught, I'm taking full responsibility for it no matter what Father says," Feliciano answered.

"He won't believe you, Feli. He'll think that I'm making you bring me food," Lovino sighed.

"I'll make him believe," his brother assured. "I don't want him hitting you anymore."

"If he touches you, Feli, I'll fucking kill him, understand? Don't put yourself at risk because of me. It's not worth it. I appreciate what you're doing, but… don't bring me anymore food. It won't make the situation any better," Lovino put his hands on Feliciano's shoulders, trying to get the boy to understand.

"But—"

"No, Feliciano. No more food. Thank you, but no."

Feliciano couldn't wrap his mind around what his brother was telling him. No more food? Why? Didn't he understand that without food he wouldn't survive?

"Lovino…"

"Feliciano. I don't want you getting hurt. No more late night runs—no more risks. Okay?" Lovino placed his hand atop Feliciano's mop of auburn hair.

"Okay…" the younger nodded reluctantly.

"You'd better get going before Father catches us. Be careful, all right?" Lovino said.

Feliciano headed for the door and spared his brother one last glance before leaving, "I should be saying that to you."

Sighing, Lovino drained the water from the tub and rinsed his mouth out with water to get the orange taste out. He brushed his teeth to remove any remaining residue and scent. If his father smelled orange on his breath, it would be the end of him. He then began to dry off, grateful of the numbness in his sides. His body was red from the cold, however.

Lovino dressed himself as quickly as he could, waiting for his father to yell for him.

"Boy! Get down here! Now!"

Lovino stumbled down the stairs, appearing before his father in record time.

"We're going out. You finish your chores then you work on your music. You need the practice—I haven't heard any improvement since we hired that man. You sure he's as good as you say he is, Felisa?" Damiano said.

"He was a prodigy all throughout school," Felisa replied with the smallest of smiles.

"Yeah, well, I don't see it. Maybe I should fire him," Damiano hummed in thought.

_No! _Lovino thought. _That's my only escape!_

"Damiano, if we don't hurry we'll lose our table," Felisa gave a light tug on her husband's sleeve.

"We'll discuss this later," Damiano's tone was menacing.

_Please get drunk, please get drunk, please get drunk, _Lovino begged to himself.

In all honesty, the teen would rather be beaten by those strong hands than have his sanctuary taken away from him. In the past, Lovino would've never pictured himself enjoying the piano so much. That stingy Austrian was rubbing off on him.

"We should be back at ten, okay? Be sure everything's done before then," Felisa's smile was gone but still harbored sweetness.

Lovino glanced at the clock. It was barely even 5:00. That should be plenty of time. The teen nodded to show his understanding.

_Don't speak unless being asked a direct question, _Lovino reminded himself. _Don't speak._

The trio left the house and perpetual silence met Lovino's ears. He decided to start on the living room then, imagining that he was going with them. He could fantasize then actually being a family—laughing together and having a good time. He once had high hopes that he'd be able to join them on one of their family outings. He used to go all the time but after he was dubbed "filthy" at age four, those fun times ceased to exist.

He was now dusting the pictures of their dysfunctional little family. Such bright expressions… he wanted to smile like that. He wanted his eyes to sparkle like that.

But alas, that was nothing more than a fairytale—like the stories his mother would read to him at night. In reality, his eyes were dull, his smile eliminated, and his soul destroyed. As he stared at their photos, Lovino wanted to rip them off the walls. If he was starved of happiness then what gave them the right to devour both theirs and his?

It just wasn't fair! None of it was! What made him so different from Feliciano besides age? Nothing! Sure, his brother had more talents but Lovino had strengths, too! It just took longer to tap his potential, that's all! With the dusting finished, he now had to clean the rest of the living room and everything had to be nothing short of perfection.

Time became nothing but a blur to him as he moved about the house dusting, making beds and sweeping. He was glad that it was a homework-free weekend. It gave him more time to work on his music—but also more time for his father to swamp him with useless chores.

Lovino ran a finger along the surface of a dresser and it came back squeaky clean. Perfect. He went through the list in his head: beds made, floors scrubbed and swept, every room was dusted, bathrooms cleaned, laundry washed, folded and put away, dishes washed and put away and tables polished.

Yup. Complete.

He glanced at the clock.

8:45.

It took him three hours. That's a new record.

Without dwelling too much on it, Lovino raced up to his room to grab his sheet music. He was in front of the piano in a matter of minutes. He wasn't entirely sure _why _he was so excited. He just… was. There was no rhyme or reason to it. And that made him happy. It made him happy to realize that he could be happy without explanation. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a while.

As a young child, all his sources of entertainment had been stripped of him. His father knew he wasn't artistic in any way, shape or form so he signed him up for piano lessons just to spite the teen who was a boy at the time.

_Look at me now, you heartless bastard. I'm enjoying it now more than ever, _Lovino thought, smirking.

Placing the music in front of him, Lovino set his fingers in their starting positions, glanced at the sheets once… and began to play. It started out slow and might sound bittersweet to those who weren't truly listening to his heart's song. There was nothing "sweet" about this—just agonizing solitude and pain. So much pain. That's where the bitterness came in. he was a lonely child without a family to fill the empty void.

Love…

Pain…

Love is pain.

Did he believe in love? No, he didn't. Why would he? Why _should _he? He didn't believe in the love his mother said to give him and he definitely didn't believe in love at first sight. His heart fluttering when the Spaniard smiled was simply because of amazement. He didn't see how anyone so sick could own such a smile. He was absolutely fascinated by it. The new kid didn't make any sense. There he was, sick as a dog and still had the energy of a toddler on sugar rush.

He sighed. He needed to focus.

Lovino put his train of thought back on track only for it to derail again when the doorbell rang. He threw his hands up in frustration. Who would be bothering at a time like this?

The teen answered the door none too happily and was met by those beautiful green eyes and dazzling smile.

No! They weren't dazzling or beautiful! They were just… _there! _Nothing more!

"W-What're you doing here?" Lovino asked. "I told you I'd come get you when it was safe—I mean, when I was free."

Antonio didn't seem to notice the slip for that smile remained, "I know you did and I'm sorry for intruding but I just heard the most beautiful music so I thought I'd come check it out. It came from your house. Did you hear it, too?"

"Uh… no. I didn't," Lovino broke eye contact with the teen before him. "Maybe you heard it coming from someplace else."

"No, I'm pretty sure it came from your house. Were _you _playing that gorgeous music, Lovi?" Antonio's eyes sparkled.

Lovino turned redder than a tomato at the nickname, "My name is Lovino, damn it!"

"It _was _you! I knew it! That was the piano you were playing, wasn't it? You're really good! Can I hear you play?" Antonio placed his hands on Lovino's shoulders, shaking him a bit from excitement.

"Okay fine! If it'll get you to stop talking, I'll play!" Lovino pried himself from Antonio's grip.

Antonio pretended to zip his lips, lock them and throw the key away.

Lovino rolled his eyes and beckoned Antonio inside, "Follow me."

The Spaniard did as told and followed his newfound friend inside the house.

"Your house is very nice, Lovi! And so clean! It's spotless!" Antonio looked around in awe.

"My name's Lovino, _idiota! _And watch where you step. I don't need you tracking dirt. I just cleaned these floors by hand," Lovino went into the piano room with Antonio trailing close behind.

"Your parents make you do that? Huh. My parents don't let me clean. They say I'm too sick. I'd rather clean than be stuck in bed all day," Antonio ran his fingers along the piano's glossy surface.

Lovino was already sitting at the large instrument, ready to play with an expectant look on his face.

"Oh, sorry," Antonio sealed his lips again and smiled.

The Italian began the same song from before and he was soon lost inside it and his memories. Antonio watched as Lovino's expression morphed from agitation to one of sorrow. He was obviously deep in thought but his fingers did not stop moving, as if his heart was telling Lovino what notes came next. Antonio was absolutely stunned. In two minutes, he was finished and Antonio's applauding brought him back to the real world completely.

"You're amazing, Lovino. A true pianist. How long have you been playing?"

"Since I was six. My dad made me start," Lovino said. "My brother is the artistic one—not me."

"Well he released something that you didn't even know you had which is wonderful. And you know what? You should smile more often. It suits you," Antonio was leaning on the instrument with a smile of his own.

Lovino turned away with a huff, blushing like crazy. And Antonio laughed. It was weak and somewhat dry but it was a wonderful laugh that Lovino could hear true joy behind it. That sound was soon cut short by a horrible cough that took over Antonio's body, racking his frail body. Lovino stood up to assist but Antonio's hand made a back and forth motion, assuring the teen that he was all right and straightened himself. The usually chipper teen looked so drained now. That coughing fit took everything out of him.

"Sorry about that. Excuse me," Antonio's voice was raspy now.

"If you don't mind my asking, what's making you sick?" Lovino couldn't help but be concerned.

"Well, the doctors never could figure it out. They said I was fine or that the symptoms I had didn't match with any sort of sickness so my mother took me to even more doctors to have tests run. She was convinced that there was something wrong with me and kept harassing them until they gave me medicine. It's all pretty bizarre, really. Right now, she's taking care of me at home," Antonio had a nervous smile.

Lovino's eyebrows creased in suspicion. If the doctors said he was fine then why would his mother continue to take him to more doctors? More doctors meant more medication which wasn't good at all. Even though he wasn't in a position to pass judgment on someone, something wasn't right about Antonio's mom.

"I'd better get going. My mom won't be happy if she finds out I snuck out of the house. I'll see you later, Lovino?" Antonio offered another tired smile.

"Yeah… see you later," Lovino walked Antonio to the door and shut it once the Spaniard left.

He decided to go to bed early that night. His family wouldn't be needing him.

_March 26__th__, 2008—_

_Something is wrong with Antonio. I can't figure it out though. What he told me about his mother… it's strange. It sounds as if… she __**wants **__her son to be sick. I mean, I can't judge people before I've met them but this is just too damn weird._

Lovino paused in his writing. He _had_ to look this up on the internet. He checked the clock. It was 9:15. Still enough time. Booting up the family computer, Lovino pulled up the browser and typed in the words "mother is making own child sick."

Thousands of results blew up on the page but Lovino clicked on the first link, finding it the most reliable. He read it carefully, becoming more disturbing with each word he read. He picked up his pen again and wrote the information down:

"_Munchausen by proxy syndrome is a rare form of child abuse that involves the exaggeration or fabrication of illnesses or symptoms by a primary caretaker._

"_Also known as "medical child abuse," MBPS was named after Baron von Munchausen, an 18th-century German dignitary known for making up stories about his travels and experiences in order to get attention. "By proxy" indicates that a parent or other adult is fabricating or exaggerating symptoms in a child, not in himself or herself."_

"_Munchausen by proxy syndrome is a mental illness and requires treatment."_

_I'm about to be sick to my fucking stomach._

_Who would do this to their own damn kid?_


	6. Chapter 5

***tries to make it to at least 4,000 words* *fails miserably* Sorry guys. I'm just tired. There's a lot of crap going on between me and my dad and I don't know. I just feel... dead. Sorry for the short-ish chapter. I hope it's up to par.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language, violence**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_March 29__th__, 2008—_

_Munchausen by Proxy Syndrome is what Antonio's mom must have. There's really no other explanation. Well, maybe there is one but I had to get off the computer and clear the browser history before Father came home. It's all a pain in the ass, if you ask me. _

_Before I did, though, I read about some cases involving Munchausen by Proxy Syndrome going on in America. It's the most severe type of factitious disorder, which is a group of conditions in which people purposely exaggerate, invent or even cause disease symptoms. It's not as bad as __**hypochondria**__, which is when people really do believe they are sick. It's also different than __**malingering**__—that's when people pretend to be sick for financial gain or to get out of work._

_Those looking into this aren't entirely sure what causes it but it might be an ending result of a history of sexual, physical or emotional abuse; serious illness during childhood; a relative who was seriously or died; poor self-esteem—you name it._

_It was disturbing to read about the great lengths people with just Munchausen's Syndrome. They would agree to the most painful of surgeries and actually be excited about it! Now with Munchausen __**by Proxy, **__it's to a whole new level. I read this article about two incidents that happened in the 1970s in England recorded by a British pediatrician. One case was a 6-year-old girl named Kay who had been admitted into the hospital 12 times—twelve! It was all for a urinary tract infection that had been treated unsuccessfully with eight different antibiotics. The second one was about a 14-month-old baby named Charles who was hospitalized because of drowsiness and vomiting that had no obvious medical cause._

_Richard Meadow, the pediatrician, discovered they both had some similarities. Kay's mother had changed her urine samples to make it appear as if her daughter was sick. Charles's mother had caused his illness by feeding him large amounts of salt. The baby eventually died._

_What kind of sick people are they? Who would willingly do this to their own child? Fucking crazy people, that's who._

"_Someone who has Munchausen syndrome by proxy may be seeking attention because she was abused or lost a parent as a child, or is going through difficult marital problems or another major life stress. Being seen as the caring parent by hospital staff is a way to earn praise that the sufferer might not have garnered otherwise."_

_That's what I read off the website. Wait, I'm rambling aren't I? Damn it. I've been doing that a lot lately._

_Anyway, I have to tell Antonio. But when? And it's not like he'll believe me. I mean, I don't even believe it and I researched it. Antonio deserves to know his mother is making him sick. He'll die there if I don't tell him! She must be giving him whatever poison or unnecessary medication in small amounts otherwise he'd be dead already._

_If this continues… I fear the worst. I won't allow him to die. Although I'll never admit it aloud, I've found a friend in Antonio. He is like a Feliciano almost—a complete idiot but with a good heart and good intentions. However, whatever friendship we planned on having will be destroyed when I tell him what I think is going on. I'll have to do it when Mother, Father and Feliciano go on one of their little family outings again._

_I don't know when that'll be, though._

_And by that point, Antonio could very well be—_

Lovino stopped there. Considering Antonio's death was unacceptable. He sighed and put his journal away.

"_Fratello," _Feliciano entered the room and stood at the foot of his brother's bed. "Mother said your bath is ready and for you to get in right now."

Lovino slid out of bed, preparing to soak in the ice for an hour straight. It would take everything he had to get through this.

* * *

Antonio cleared the fogged mirror of steam and examined himself. He had just stepped out of the shower and his dripping brunette locks fell like a curtain over his eyes. Pushing them back, the teen studied his features: washed out skin that clung to his feeble bones, a visible ribcage, dull curls of hair, and dark circles staining the area around his eyes. He opened his mouth and scraped some loose flesh from his tongue. Huh. How in the world did that happen?

The back of his throat of was raw and it almost killed him to swallow. There were red splotches all over the inside of his mouth, no doubt from the small sores that had developed. He wondered where he got those. He also took note of the dark bruises on his wrists and arms. Those were the areas where the needle for shots and IV's had been. He had always bruised easily…

The teen squirmed at the thought of needles. As far as he was concerned, he never liked them or any sharp object for that matter. Who would? Needles and knives always made Antonio uneasy to an extent where he would get light-headed and almost pass out. It was an unnatural fear, he thought. He could never watch the doctors and nurses draw blood from his arm for testing or stick the IV in his wrist.

Antonio couldn't remember a time when there wasn't something wrong with him. According to the doctors, there was nothing they could do. When they prescribed him antibiotics, they didn't help. All it did was make him sicker. His mother would then ship him off to another hospital.

. . .

"_No, Mommy! I don't want to go! I'm not sick! I'm not sick!" five year old Antonio Carriedo squirmed in his father's arms. "No more shots! I'm not sick!"_

"_Antonio, settle down. You're making a scene," Adelita sighed, smiling disarmingly at the other patients who were beginning to stare._

"_Adelita, listen to the boy. He said he feels fine," Emilio threw his wife an exasperated look. If _he _was getting tired of all these doctor visits, then Antonio must be fed up._

"_He is a boy who knows no better. I'm his mother—I know what's best for him," Adelita tossed her hair over her shoulder in a huff._

. . .

Antonio placed a hand to his head, shaking it. What was that just now? It was the little boy from his dreams. That poor boy… he was so sad and so lonely and so very sick. Antonio would see him in the doctor's office, crying his eyes out while his parents were sitting there, doing nothing. He felt so bad for the child. He wished he could cure his loneliness. But it was a dream—nothing more.

He often wondered who the boy and his parents were. He never really had a chance to see their faces. Their features were blurred, like someone had smudged some still wet paint over a masterpiece. He wanted to know what it would take to correct that mistake. He wanted to know who those people were. It was only fair. It was his dream, after all.

Deciding to push those thoughts aside, Antonio headed to his room so he could dress himself. He had to be careful. The recent trip to the hospital left him exhausted and sore. The new medication he was prescribed for his flu-like symptoms wasn't helping in the slightest. In fact, it was making things so much worse.

He hoped his mom knew what she was doing…

_Of course she knows what she's doing. She's your mother and she loves you, _the voice in his head whispered. _Don't ever doubt her._

"What could I be thinking? She wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I'm such an idiot sometimes," Antonio slipped on a red shirt carefully, mindful of his bruises. Then came the sweatpants and Antonio admitted to that being the most painful.

The last… one, two three, four visits to the doctor left him absolutely drained. He didn't know why his mother was so persistent. She would beg the doctors to do something to help him when in reality, he felt just fine. It's when he came home did he start feeling sick again. Antonio couldn't quite wrap his head around it. He would go to the hospital, be treated for whatever was wrong with him, come back home and the cycle would start again. It was all very bizarre.

Hmm… maybe—

"Antonio~," his mother called. "I hope you're resting!"

The teen was already slowly making his way down the stairs, "I'm not tired, Mom."

"Antonio, you need to be in bed," Adelita put her hands on her hips once seeing her son hobbling his way towards her. "You know doctor visits leave you exhausted."

"I'm feeling much better though," Antonio forced a smile. "I don't want to lie in bed all day. That gets boring. I want to actually contribute to the family."

The look in the woman's gem-like eyes softened to something that feigned kindness and sympathy, "All right, Toni. Do you mind setting the table so we can eat lunch? I made a traditional Italian lunch that I'm sure you and your father are going to love!"

"Sure!" Antonio moved about clumsily as he set the table with plates and silverware.

Adelita glanced over her shoulder, "I made some soup for you, too, Toni. And I promise this one doesn't taste as funny like all the other ones. I'm sure I got the ingredients right this time."

"Really?" Antonio's eyes lit up. "Great!"

Adelita smiled fondly at her son before continuing her task of making sure the food was prepared, "Antonio, sweetheart, would you go tell your father lunch is ready? He's out in the back taking a nap."

"Uh-huh!" the teen rushed out of the room.

Adelita grabbed the bottle of acetone and poured a spoonful of it into the soup, stirring it gently. She smiled to herself. Maybe Antonio would have to undergo surgery for some damaged organs or something along those lines. Wouldn't that be swell? Just think of all the family members who would come to visit them because her son was in the hospital. It'd be perfect! She'd see her parents and siblings again along with their children. She hadn't seen them in so long…

Hearing the footsteps of her husband and child, Adelita's smile turned from that of a deceiver to a compassionate mother's as she hid the bottle of acetone in a random cabinet. She'd have to remember to put it back in the bathroom later. Emilio, still looking half-asleep, plopped down in his chair with a yawn. Antonio smiled at his father being in such a lethargic state.

"How are you feeling today, Antonio?" the man asked, scratching his head full of curly brown hair.

"I'm feeling much better than I was a few days ago. My throat still hurts though," Antonio's smile did not waver.

Emilio couldn't help but return it. As ill as he was, Antonio never found it an excuse to never smile or be depressed. His son had yet to find a reason to _not _be happy. All in all, Emilio was proud of his little trooper. He couldn't but ask… when would his son be getting any better? None of these doctor appointments were helping them medically _or _financially. Adelita was insistent, however.

The young mother placed the bowl of soup in front of Antonio, saying that if he would finish every bit of it, he could try eating some of the more solid foods since his throat was hurting so bad. Antonio nodded, up to the challenge. He wanted some real food and not something that would fill his stomach halfway.

Picking up his spoon, Antonio swallowed down some of it, only to cough horribly after doing so. The liquid singed his throat on its way down, the acetone burning the raw areas of his mouth and esophagus. He fought to get the soup to rest in his stomach, panting once he succeeded. Another horrendous coughing fit took hold again, shaking the teen's tiny frame.

"Are you all right, son?" Emilio asked.

"Mm-hmm," was Antonio's reply as the sizzling in his throat did not cease. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure, dear? Do you need your medicine?" Adelita questioned with a certain gleam in her eye.

Antonio nodded, refraining from speaking.

"If you say so…" the woman shrugged. "Now go on and finish eating. It'll help you get better faster."

The teen stared at the soup and gulped even if the saliva itself burned. He didn't know if he could continue eating that if it sparked this kind of reaction. What could possibly be in there if it hurt this much? Or was it just hot from being on the stove? The latter was a more logical answer, he thought.

"Antonio," Adelita's voice took a bit of an ardent turn. "Eat."

With much hesitation, Antonio choked down the contaminated food.

* * *

He took in a few breaths of air before settling back down into the arctic waters again. At least, that's what it felt like to him. Lovino had been left numb and alone in the tub for almost 45 minutes now. Everything hurt but yet it didn't. His mother was right though; the swelling had been reduced to almost nothing.

_Fifteen more minutes, Lovino, _he thought. _You can do this. Just fifteen more minutes. Focus on something else. Hunger… music… Antonio._

In his sudden surprise at thinking of the Spaniard's name, Lovino nearly choked on his held breath and immediately went to the surface for air. His lunge swelled with the oxygen they so desperately need and he brushed his soaked hair out of his eyes.

What the hell was all that about? Why was the kid next door always on his mind? Why? It didn't make any sense whatsoever! There was not a moment that passed that Lovino wasn't thinking of the green eyed boy somehow, someway.

Was… Antonio thinking of him as much as Lovino was? Did the Spaniard even care? Deep in Lovino's subconscious, there was a little flutter of hope that he at least crossed Antonio's mind once a day, even if it was just for a split second. That was better than not at all. He wanted to be important again. He wanted to matter to someone. He wanted… he wanted…

He didn't know what he wanted. Sinking back into the water, Lovino concentrated on the numbness surrounding his body like a warm blanket. This would have to do for now. The Italian teen then began to drift away, being conscious enough not to fall asleep but also giving him the opportunity to escape reality.

It was another twenty minutes before Feliciano entered the bathroom to relieve Lovino from the icy hell, repeating the same procedure as last time. He hugged his brother tightly, more than willing to share his warmth when their father called for the elder's presence.

Going down the stairs in nothing but a damp towel, Lovino stood shivering and under the harsh glare of his father who merely chuckled at his son's pathetic situation.

"Go out back and sit underneath the tree and don't come in until I tell you to, can you handle that much? Or would you rather me try a… _different_ approach?" Damiano ordered with nothing but cruel amusement in his voice.

"No sir," was Lovino's hushed reply.

"That's what I thought. So get your ass out there," he pointed to the back door.

Lovino made his way to the door, still dripping wet, and wrapped the towel tighter around his waist. It was then that he caught another gleam in his father's eyes, one that hinted he had another plan in mind. And Lovino didn't want to know about it.

"Take off your towel before going outside."

Lovino froze completely. His father wanted him to… expose himself? What if someone saw?

_Wait, I forget, he doesn't give a damn! _Lovino growled in his head.

"Damiano…" Felisa started.

"Be quiet, woman. _I'm _speaking right now," Damiano sent his fiery gaze at his mother and she cringed away from it. He turned back to Lovino. "Towel off. Now."

What was left of Lovino's sense of self-worth was now thrown out the window as the damp towel dropped to the floor and he stepped outside to sit underneath a cloudy sky and shady tree. It would rain soon and whether or not his father would make him endure that, too, he did not know nor did he care to.

He was nothing to these people.

_March 29__th__, 2008—_

_Kill me now._


	7. Chapter 6

**Made it to 4,000 words! Yay! Thank you everyone for your continued support on this story! 65 reviews and only on chapter six! That's never happened before! Thank you all so very, very much! It helps me stay up until *checks clock* 2:30 in the morning on the weekends. I'm about to pass out though /is very tired. Anywho, the issues between my dad and I have settled but there's still tension so updates may be slower than usual even if I do have my own laptop. I hate it.**

**We are delving deeper and deeper in Lovino's and Antonio's relationship so I hope you are all satisfied with it.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language, Violence**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_April 5__th__—_

_I was certain that someone would see me in my humility. I was waiting—I was prepared. For three hours I sat underneath the tree, shivering my ass off. Luckily for me, it started raining! I haven't been able to write in this stupid journal for the entire week I stayed home from school because I had a cold sent from Hell itself. But did that excuse me from my chores and iced baths?_

_Fuck no, it didn't._

_I still had to complete my chores on time and soak in freezing water. My time in the tub has been increased to 1 hour and 30 minutes. Don't ask why. It makes things so much simpler—and less painful. The bruises from my last beating are starting to disappear but my ribs hurt like all to be damned. Mom set up a doctor's appointment for me during the week to have x-rays done. I have two fractured ribs. It's not severe, much to Mother's and my own relief._

_Father didn't beat me up as bad as he usually does while I was sick but he didn't go easy on me either. He still had to remind me who was in charge. Like I need a reminder. He rules this family with a fucking iron fist._

_I was finally able to show Mr. Edelstein my song as sick as I was. He didn't say anything at first and I thought it was because he hated it. I was waiting for him to tell me to try again or that it was awful. But he didn't. I had actually rendered the uptight bastard speechless. He told me he was proud of how far I had come along and wanted me to keep playing. I told him I would._

_I wonder how Antonio is doing._

_I haven't seen him the entire week or even outside his house to sit in the sun. Could he have gotten sicker? What if his mom… no, stay positive. Try to, at least. Antonio wouldn't give in so easily. In just the two times we've talked to one another, I can tell he's a fighter. He wouldn't have survived this long if he wasn't._

_But I do have one question: where the hell is Antonio's dad during all this? Does he not know what his wife is doing to their son? It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't. Most fathers don't know their wives are poisoning their children. A small percentage, in fact, help with the crime._

_His dad wouldn't be helping, would he? Does he even know about it? There's also the possibility that he knows and chooses not to do anything about it. I can't say at the moment. The whole is bat-shit insane._

"_Fratello, _come on," Feliciano urged, breaking Lovino's concentration. "Mom's giving you a ride to school and we have to leave before Father wakes up for work."

Lovino hid the journal in its initial place, making sure the board was set back properly. He grabbed his backpack then and followed Feliciano to the vehicle. Felisa drove down the street as quickly as she could before Damiano discovered their absence.

Arriving at the school, the boys hopped out of the car, waving at their mother goodbye and thanking her for the ride to school.

"Have a good day. Make the best of it, all right? Love you, Feliciano. And I love you, too, Lovino," Felisa drove off.

Lovino stood there, dumbfounded. He hadn't heard his mom say those words since he was a small child. It had sewn back a little piece of his torn heart. Albeit a small piece held by a thin, fragile thread but a piece none the less. Feliciano tugged on his brother's shirt to catch his brother's attention.

"You okay, _fratello?"_

Lovino paused, "Yes. I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You were spacing out again. That's why I asked," Feliciano's honey eyes still shone with concern.

"Don't worry over nothing. People space out all the time," Lovino said. "Come on. Let's get going."

The brothers strolled through the crowded halls until Feliciano stopped and pointed at a certain blonde-haired and blue eyed student.

"There's Ludwig! I'll see you later,_ fratello!_" the younger began to stray away.

"Stay out of trouble, Feli," Lovino warned.

Feliciano let out a mirthful laugh, "I could say the same to you!"

Lovino watched his brother catch up with Ludwig Bielschmidt, a transfer student from Germany, biting on the inside of his cheek with irritation. If anyone asked him, the Italian teen would say that he disliked his brother's German friend. That's on a good day. Something about the blue-eyed 13 year old just rubbed him the wrong way. But the light in Feliciano's eyes made him see differently on some days. There were few times when Lovino had seen true joy in his brother's eyes and the consistent times were when he was talking to Ludwig.

Lovino would leave them alone… for now.

Spotting Elizabeta, Bella and the new girl whose name was Lili, Lovino hurried to catch up to them. Despite them being all girls, Lovino was closest to them out of everyone he had met at this school. It was odd, really. He never imagined having just girls for friends but it was something he was content with. He had practically grown up with Elizabeta and Bella and Lili was beginning to come out of her protective little shell—something he himself had yet to do.

"Hey Lovino. Where have you been? We've been worried sick about you," Bella said, brushing back her hair with a hand.

"_I _was the one who was sick. I had a cold," Lovino sighed.

"That's awful. Are you feeling any better?" Elizabeta wondered.

"You're damn right I am. I'm glad to be out of that house," the Italian nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "I had to sit out in that rainstorm last weekend. That's why I got sick."

"Who made you sit out there?" Lili's shy voice barely carried over the mindless chatter of the other students in the hall.

Lovino didn't look at the petite girl, "My father did."

"Why would he do that?" her teal eyes were confused.

"I'll explain later, Lili," Elizabeta smiled. "Good to have you back, Lovino. We missed you. Oh! I brought you some food today! I was able to sneak some past my parents! And another thing: did you hear that there's a new student joining us? He's from Spain. He's a sickly little guy—looks like he hasn't eaten in weeks! His name escapes me though…"

"Antonio," Lovino said, his cheeks tinted pink at the thought of the frail teen.

"Yeah, that's right! Wait, have you already met him?" Elizabeta's eyebrows rose.

Lovino nodded, "He's my next door neighbor."

"How cool! So he'll already have a friend and won't be so lonely!" Bella grinned. "I hope he's nice."

"Yeah… he's… nice, I guess. He can talk your ear off so you guys will get along just fine," Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose.

At that moment, someone bumped into Lovino, effectively making the latter drop his books and things onto the floor. Lovino's eyes turned into a fiery emerald.

"Watch where you're going, you fucking idiot!"

"You talking to me, Vargas?" Corradeo, the renowned school tormenter and co-captain of the football team, approached Lovino.

The shorter of the two stood his ground with no hints of fear. A crowd began to gather, watching the scene unfold with eager eyes and ears. They were all cheering for Corradeo— that much Lovino knew. He wasn't exactly well-liked among his peers. They are the ones who teased him because he wasn't tall or strong. They teased him because of how poorly he was dressed or how skinny he was. They beat him up often after times his father had gotten his chance because he had resorted to stealing food from them in order to survive those terrible days of starvation.

Yup. They hated him.

But that was okay because Lovino didn't need them. He had his circle of friends he knew he could trust. Those girls would be by his side until the end. They promised. Lovino was tired of running from his fears. It was time to face them. If he could look his father in the eye, he could stare down anyone.

"I suggest you fix your attitude, Vargas, because you're about to be in a world of trouble," Corradeo looked down his nose at Lovino, sneering.

"Bite me," Lovino spat.

The taller Italian's eyebrow twitched in annoyance and he grabbed the front of Lovino's shirt, "You've got some brass balls to me talking to me like that, Vargas."

"At least I have some," Lovino retorted with a smirk.

There was a spark of fire in Corradeo's eyes, showing that the eldest Vargas son had indeed struck a nerve. The crowd surrounding them had become unbelievably quiet considering its size.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size, Corradeo?" Feliciano emerged from the mass with Ludwig close behind him. "My brother didn't do anything to you."

"You want some, too, faggot? Why don't you run back to your little boyfriend over there?" Corradeo already had his fist drawn back in a punch meant for Lovino.

Feliciano's eyes narrowed, displaying a temper most didn't know the 12 year old harbored. The blonde German behind him placed his hand on his shoulder to calm his friend.

"Easy, Feli," Ludwig said.

"Stay out of this, Feliciano!" Lovino ordered, glaring at his younger brother. "Get to class!"

"No," Feliciano retorted, his eyes as hard as amber itself.

"I'll deal with you later, then," Corradeo turned his attention back to Lovino.

"You lay one hand on him and I'll fucking beat the shit out of you," Lovino snarled.

"Sticking up for your little brother, now are we? Why when he hasn't even defended you against your father?" the taller smiled darkly.

The Vargas brothers were silent, drowning out the cheers of the other students to get the fight on already. They wanted to see Corradeo beat Lovino to a pulp and they were getting bored.

"You know what, punk, you've crossed the line! Let him go right now or your next period is coming out of your mouth!" Elizabeta pried Lovino from the teen's strong grip.

"Elizabeta, calm down," Bella tried to call her friend back.

"You do realize I don't have a problem hitting girls either, right?" Corradeo smirked.

"Elizabeta, get back. This is my problem and I'm going to fix it," Lovino warned.

"Not while he's the one who started it," the Hungarian girl never took her eyes off their assailant. "He has no reason to do this, Lovino."

"I suggest you guys go on and get out of here. I just saw the principal on my way over here and he doesn't look happy," a familiar voice stood out from the crowd and Lovino didn't need to turn around to picture their face in his mind.

Antonio slid in front of Lovino and Elizabeta, holding his hands up in a placating gesture and maintaining a genuine smile. At 15 years old, Antonio was at the same height as Corradeo and there was the darkness of intimidation in the latter's eyes.

_There's no way Antonio is strong enough to hold his own against this guy! It's a mismatch! _Lovino thought with unrealized worry.

"You might want to get a move on before you lose your spot as co-captain of the football team," Antonio kept his smile.

"What can you do, new kid? You're nothing," Corradeo was still very intimidated.

"Me? Oh, _I _can't do anything but I believe your _father_ can. He's the head principal of this school, yes? Wouldn't want to have any trouble with daddy, now do we?" Antonio's smile took a sarcastic and demeaning shift, something Lovino had never thought was possible for the chipper Spaniard.

The crowd dispersed like a colony of agitated ants, some standing by their lockers as if nothing was wrong and others hauling themselves to class or down the hall. Feliciano and Ludwig lingered, however. Corradeo was one of the last to go, glaring Antonio down with his coffee eyes. The moment he was out of earshot, Antonio turned to the three girls and his next door neighbor, a goofy grin planted firmly on his face.

"Hey Lovino. How are you doing today?" the Spaniard asked.

"You idiot! You could've gotten the shit beat out of you back there! He's twice as big as you are!" Lovino reprimanded, obviously just a little flustered that his friends would stick their necks out for him like that.

"A sharp mind beats big muscle, Lovino~," Antonio tapped at his head and laughed. "The principal isn't even coming. I just told him that to get him away from you."

The six students listening stood in shock as Antonio laughed lightly.

"You're still an idiot…" Lovino grumbled.

"Yeah, I know," the Spaniard then brought his attention to the three girls, his grin staying. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself. How rude of me. I'm Antonio Carriedo."

The three girls introduced themselves in return, immediately considering Antonio part of their group now. They soon began a conversation with him since class didn't start for another ten minutes or so. Lovino, on the other hand, spun on his heel and confronted his younger brother and the latter didn't break eye contact.

"Feliciano, how many times have I told you not to get involved with my problems?" Lovino sighed.

"And how many times have I told you to stay out of trouble?" Feliciano said with a huff.

"My business is my own. I don't want you getting hurt," Lovino crossed his arms.

"Do you enjoy getting the hell beaten out of you, Lovino?" Feliciano's voice rose in volume. "You know what would've happened to you the moment you walked through the front door if you had gotten in a fight with that guy!"

"You're right—I'm well aware of the consequences. You're acting as if I'm starting it, Feli!" Lovino's temper was flaring, combatting with Feliciano's.

"You could've just picked up your stuff and went on about your day but you just _had _to call the guy out, didn't you!" Feliciano's cheeks were turning a light shade of red.

"He did that shit on purpose, Feliciano! You know that!"

"For once, calm down and think about what you're saying before acting! It'll save you a hell of a lot more trouble than what you're used to!" Feliciano grabbed Ludwig's hand and stormed down the hall, fuming.

Lovino sighed and returned to the group who watched him with careful eyes. Paying no mind to them, Lovino held out his hand to Antonio with a bashful expression.

"I assume you'll need help in finding your classes, right?"

"Oh that's right! I almost forgot!" Antonio dug in his pocket and handed the flimsy piece of paper which was the Spaniard's schedule.

Lovino scanned it, surprised to find that most of these classes were for someone of the lower secondary school which was only for students of the ages 11 through 14. But Antonio was 15. Why in the world was he a grade behind his peers?

"Why the hell are you in our class when you're a year older than us?" Lovino couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Oh, I don't know. My mom made those decisions. I had nothing to do with them," Antonio shrugged.

Satisfied with that, Lovino began to drift away from the group, "We'd better get going so you can make it on time. And pay attention to where we're going! I can't keep leading you every day of the week!"

"You got it, Lovi!" Antonio gave the thumbs-up.

"It's Lovino, you asshole!" the Italian growled.

Bella and Elizabeta laughed and wiggled their eyebrows suggestively at Lovino, hinting at the apparent chemistry between the two. More than a little agitated, Lovino grabbed Antonio by his hand and dragged the latter to where they were supposed to be going. A strong electric current shot up Lovino's arm and the Italian wanted to pull away but… he liked it. He enjoyed that feeling.

"See you two at lunch!" Elizabeta waved before they also made their way to class.

"Umm, Lovino…" Antonio was blushing madly at the fact that the Italian was still holding his hand.

Upon noticing, Lovino (reluctantly) tore his hand away and the tingling where the two had made contact remained, greatly confusing the blushing duo.

"Just… try and keep up. It's easy to get lost around here," Lovino focused his attention back to the task at hand and moved forward down the hall.

Antonio did as told, committing his surroundings to memory so he wouldn't have to keep asking Lovino for help navigating the school. Lovino glanced at his hand now and then. It was the one that bore the burn from the stove. The tingling… it was still there. Why wouldn't it go away? On second thought, what did it mean?

He had never experienced that before… it was so new and intriguing.

"We're here. This is your class," Lovino pointed to the door.

Antonio nodded, memorizing the room number, "Thanks, Lovino! I'll see you after class! I hope we have one together!"

Lovino reddened considerably, "I'll come by after this class to come and get you. So don't even think about running off!"

"I won't, Lovi~ I'll be right here like you asked me to," Antonio said.

"Good. Well I'll see you later…" Lovino was about to take off when Antonio suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Um, well, I know this is kind of sudden but…" Antonio fished out another slip of paper from his pocket and held it out to the Italian. "Here's my number; so call me? Maybe?"

Lovino's heart fluttered in his chest as he stared at the row of numbers. He stuffed it in his own pocket, his cheeks darkening.

"I'll see if I can. I'm a pretty busy guy," Lovino mumbled.

"Good," Antonio smiled. "Oh! Is it okay if I stop by your house for help on my homework? I've never really been good at math…"

Lovino nearly stopped breathing, "Um, I—uh, I'll have to see. I'm not sure if we have plans tonight."

"Sounds good," Antonio nodded. "I'll see you later!"

The Spaniard then disappeared into his classroom. Lovino shuffled down the hall, the piece of paper nearly burning a hole in his pocket from his sheer excitement. No! No! He _wasn't _excited! He wasn't excited at all!

Oh, who was he kidding?

He was fucking elated.

* * *

"I assume all your chores are done for the day?" Damiano questioned, standing at the door with Felisa and his younger brother.

"Yes sir. I completed them before I went to school this morning," Lovino nodded, staring at the floor.

"All right then. Do your homework. I expect better grades this year. Let's see if you can match Feliciano's. I doubt it but it'll be amusing to see you try," the man smirked before stepping out the front door with his wife and son in tow.

Lovino sighed in relief of his anxiety. Should he call Antonio or should he just work up enough nerve and go knock on their front door? He honestly didn't know…

He decided to sit out on the front porch and think about it there. Fresh air always managed to clear his mind when nothing else did. After making sure his parents were far enough down the street, he plopped himself down on the steps, and Lovino closed his eyes, losing himself in his thoughts.

Another piano melody came to fruition at that point and he hummed along to it, not knowing how he had already created an entire piece on a whim. He should go put this to paper before he forgot—

"Lovi!"

Opening his eyes, Lovino caught sight of Antonio waving at him from his house. Oh yeah. Lovino had almost forgotten about what Antonio had asked of him at school today. Lovino motioned for Antonio to join him on the steps and the Spanish teen was over in a flash with a folder and pencil in hand.

"I just saw your family leave. Did you not want to go with them?"

"No. I decided to sit this one out," Lovino spoke in monotone, hinting that the subject of his family was _not _up for discussion.

"Oh okay."

"So what do you need help with?" Lovino glanced at the folder.

"That's right! Okay, so I looked at the problems before coming over here to see if I could figure it out and I was able to with a few. This one is giving me the most trouble though," Antonio pointed to it with the tip of his pencil.

Lovino scanned the problem, coming up with the answer in a few short moments. He held his hand out for the pencil, "Here; I'll show you how to do it."

The Italian scribbled down the equation, explaining as thoroughly as he could to try and get Antonio to understand. The Spaniard nodded every few seconds to show that he was listening and absorbing all of the information like a sponge.

"So that's the answer," Lovino circled it and placed the pencil back in Antonio's hand. "Now I want you to try the next one on your own. It's exactly like number five but with different numbers."

Antonio set to work on the problem, following Lovino's instructions to the letter to try and solve this without asking for the Italian's help. Once finished, he showed the paper to his friend after circling the answer to make it easier to spot.

"Like this?"

"That's exactly right," Lovino merely glanced at the problem to know.

"All right!" Antonio cheered. "You're such a great teacher, Lovi! You're way smart, too!"

Lovino paid no mind to the nickname or compliment, "Anything else you need help with?"

"Oh yeah! I need help with number 17. I took notes on it when the teacher was giving the lecture and I tried to follow the examples but it's still not coming out right…"

"Okay, let's see…" Lovino read the problem, immediately knowing what to do. "All right, this is how it's done. Pay attention."

Antonio watched once more as Lovino showed him what to do and how he arrived at that answer. He was then given another chance to try a problem like it on his own.

The tutoring session went on like that for a while and both lost track of the time. Only when the sound of a vehicle pulling into Lovino's driveway did the Italian teen look up from his work. And upon seeing the familiar car, Lovino's heart dropped to the deep recesses of his stomach.

"Oh no…" Lovino murmured to himself in dread.

"What is it?" Antonio finally looked up and was met with the sight of Lovino's approaching family.

"What the hell is going on here?" Damiano demanded.

"Sorry, sir. My name is Antonio Carriedo," the Spaniard stood to shake his father's hand and, to Lovino's surprise, the welcoming gesture was returned.

"Oh you're the boy from next door, aren't you? The one who just moved in?" Felisa smiled.

"Yes ma'am," Antonio nodded with a smile and shook her hand as well.

"It's so nice to see you again. I'm Felisa and this is my husband, Damiano. I'm sure you've already met Lovino and Feliciano at school," the woman grinned.

"It's very nice to meet you both. Sorry to drop in uninvited. Lovino was just helping me out with my homework. He's very smart," Antonio grinned.

Lovino wanted to crawl into the deepest hole possible and never come out because the look his father was giving him screamed _murder._

"He is, indeed, a smart boy," Felisa was beginning to catch on to the tense atmosphere building up.

"I suppose I'll go now. I'll see you tomorrow at school, Lovino! Thanks for the help!" Antonio disappeared into his home.

"Get up right now!" Damiano grabbed his eldest son by the arm and pushed him inside the house. "You're in deep shit."

* * *

"Antonio, have you seen Lovino? He's usually at school by now and I'm beginning to worry," Bella kept scanning the area for her friend.

"I'm sure everything's fine," Antonio smiled to disarm the girl. "He probably woke up late this morning."

"No, he _never _wakes up late. His father makes sure of that," Bella grumbled the last part. She then turned to the taller teen. "Please help me find him. Please!"

"All right," Antonio nodded.

"Call me and meet back here if you find him," she then merged into the group of students.

Antonio looked around, not even knowing where to begin. He randomly chose the hall to the left, dodging students and objects flying through the air. He scrutinized the back of everyone's head and face, looking for that trademark curl and beautiful forest green eyes.

The search continued like this for more than 15 minutes and now Antonio was starting to have the same feeling Bella did. Where could Lovino possibly be?

The Spaniard was about to call it quits when he noticed someone limping down the hall with dark hair and a funny little curl…

"Lovino?" Antonio headed towards that person, wanting to be certain it was him. "Lovino!"

Said person halted in the hallway, slowly turning to see who was calling him before hiding his face quickly and hobbling towards their locker.

"Lovino, wait for me!" Antonio fought through the crowd to reach the open locker the Italian was at. It was very clear that it was the Lovino they were searching for but he was acting strange. He wouldn't show his face.

Why was that?

"Hey, Lovi! Man, you nearly gave us all a heart attack because we couldn't find you! Glad to know you're okay though!" Antonio laughed off his worries but stopped when Lovino didn't reply. "You are okay, aren't you?"

"Yeah," was the reply. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I mean, you won't look at me. What's the matter?" Antonio tried to get a peek at Lovino's face, however, the Italian wasn't having it and ducked away.

"Nothing's the matter. Go to class, Antonio. I have to get going."

"Lovi, look at me. What's wrong?" Antonio asked.

Lovino glanced at the Spaniard out of the corner of a bruised eye before finally turning to face the taller teen completely.

Antonio's eyes widened.

His friend's face was marred with dark bruises and cuts. One surrounded his left eye while another nearly colored his entire right cheek. He had a busted lip and scratch marks littered his face and neck. He could only imagine what was hidden underneath the long sleeved shirt and dark pants.

"Leave me alone, Antonio."

"No, who did this to you?"

"No one. I fell. It's not your business anyway, so drop it," Lovino refused to make eye contact and started to walk away.

"Lovi—" Antonio gently grabbed at Lovino's forearm but the latter hissed in pain and tore it away, indicating that there were definitely more wounds.

"Leave me alone, Antonio. I can't talk to you anymore so just go away."

"Did your dad do this to you?" Antonio asked to where only Lovino could hear.

"No. I fell."

"These aren't the bruises of someone who fell, Lovino! I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, sure, but I know when someone is being abused!" Antonio's voice rose in volume and his sore throat made some of his words come out hoarsely.

"Do you, Antonio? Do you really? Because quite frankly, I don't think you do!" Lovino was almost shouting at this point, drawing the attention of a few people.

"What do you mean?" Antonio gazed at his friend with confusion.

"Look in the fucking mirror, Antonio. Or better yet, ask your mother," Lovino stormed off at that moment, leaving a confused Spaniard in his wake.

_April 5__th__—_

_I think I'm in love. And to protect the one I love, I must disappear from his life entirely. I can't forget him though. I mean, who forgets their first love? Maybe I'm falling too hard too fast but… I can't help it. He's the one—the one I've been waiting for all my life._

_I know he is._

_I could never tell him that, though. He'll think me a freak and I don't think I'm ready to face rejection. I'd rather just keep it a secret because I know my feelings won't be returned._


	8. Chapter 7

**Didn't I just update this weekend? Why yes, I did. I couldn't help myself. I had to write this /ish very tired and ish going to bed.**

**Be warned, my lovely readers, for this story is going to have a dark turn.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_May 18__th__—_

_It's been a month. I don't sit with my friends at lunch anymore. I can't while Antonio is there. I know it's wrong of me to avoid him but this is for the best. I can't be seen with him. If you can't tell, Father wasn't particularly pleased with me when he found me with Antonio. I tried to explain my reasons—I don't know why I did, that just made it worse—but he wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. When does he ever?_

_He said that if he ever caught me with Antonio again, he'd kill me. He's made the death threat before but I'm sure he's serious this time. I think the only reason he didn't beat me within an inch of my life was because he wants to see what I'm going to do—whether I'm going to listen to him or not. He's daring me to disobey him. He wants me to. He's calling me out._

_There's a part of me that wants to give in to his demands but… another part of me wants to downright defy him and see Antonio anyway. Even if it kills me, I want to talk to him, I want to see him. I know he's making the effort to catch up to me in the halls but I have to keep walking. I don't want him to get hurt. I can imagine the look on his face—that heartbroken look. All I can do is imagine it. I can't bear to look._

…_I almost want to laugh at myself right now._

_I sound like some love-struck junior high girl._

_Well… the love-struck part is true to say the least. I'm tired of denying it. I'm officially in love with Antonio Carriedo, my next door neighbor and classmate. I wanted to scream it at Father and dare him to hit me again. He would probably kick me out of the house at that point. I would be able to stay with Antonio then without any problems. That sounds like the ideal life._

_It's not meant to be though._

_And even if things work out in that sense, Antonio's the one who made me fall…_

…_so he'd better be willing to catch me._

The Italian teen stared at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. The bruises on his arms, legs and torso had shifted from a dark, ugly purple to a repulsing yellow-brown. His black eye was still making progress, however. The splotches were all over his body so Lovino's wardrobe consisted of long-sleeved shirts and pants that were a size too small, even with the hot weather. There was one time he had hit such a huge growth spurt he had to stretch out the fabric to the point where the material almost ripped.

He tried to make sense of his mop of hair by running his fingers through it. He still looked a mess if the dark circles under his eyes were any indication. His father made him stay up late last night doing meaningless chores like washing baseboards and cleaning the grit between the tiles in the kitchen with a toothbrush. His knees were killing him to say the least.

"Get down here, you little bastard! If you're late for school you can guarantee that you'll get your ass handed to you when you get home!" Damiano shouted.

Lovino scrambled out of bed, almost forgetting to hide his journal. He glanced back at it, wondering if he should take it for just this one day.

_Not a good idea, _Lovino shook his head and raced down the stairs after glancing at the analog clock that read 7:45 AM.

"Get to walking. Your brother is already on his way there. And you'd better be home by 3:00 or you don't get to eat tonight. Dinner better be cooked to _my _standards, you hear me? If not, you'll eat it from the floor like the animal you are," Damiano ordered.

"Yes sir," Lovino nodded, heading for the door.

"And one other thing," Damiano paused to make sure Lovino was listening, which the teen was. "If I catch you with that Antonio boy again, you know what'll happen."

Lovino nodded with his hand clenched around the doorknob. Once having exited the house, Lovino started off at a light jog. It was almost a 30 minute walk to school and only a ten minute drive. If there was anything else Lovino Vargas was good at, he could run his ass off.

On that note, he'd be great for the athletics team.

* * *

Antonio was sprawled out in his bed and stared at the ceiling. Lovino's words from a little over a month ago still haunted his mind, jumbling up everything within. What could the Italian possibly have meant when he mentioned his mother? Was he hinting that his mom was abusing him?

That—that just wasn't possible! Absurd, really! His mother loved him with all her heart! That's why she was trying to help him recover from his periodic illnesses. That's why she gave him medicine. That's why she took him to so many doctors to have tests run… no matter how painful they were. Because she was worried about him—it was the only logical explanation.

She gave him medicine for his "sore" throat on top of the other medication the doctors had prescribed. He hadn't felt too well after that. Even though he had told his mom of his nausea and vomiting, she kept giving him the medicine, insisting that it was merely the side effects of only a pill he was taking.

His mom was a nurse, so… she had to be right. She knew what she was doing. But there was something odd. She was a little _too _joyful about giving it to him. If one of his friends back in Spain had to take medicine, their mothers had a sympathetic gleam in their eye. Why was that the case there and never at his house? It made no sense as far as he was concerned. And even if it didn't make sense, he had no right to question the woman. She was his mother.

What could have Lovino been thinking when he told him that? Well, he had just been beaten up by his father when they had that conversation so maybe the Italian was a tad bit disoriented. It was a possibility. Lovino didn't look like he was in the mood to be speaking with anyone anyway. He may have just told him that to get him off his case about his father abusing him.

The black eye, the bruises, the cuts…

Just the mere thought of that man hitting his friend was enough to make his blood boil and his heart ache. How dare that man touch _his _Lovino? How dare—

Wait a minute.

_His _Lovino?

Where had that thought come from?

Lovino wasn't his.

_I want him to be, though. I want to be something more. More than friends…_

Antonio mentally slapped himself. What was up with him today? More than friends? Lovino wouldn't agree to that! He'd call Antonio a freak and never speak to him again. And Antonio didn't think he could handle that. To never hear Lovino's voice again was… _unthinkable._ He felt his heart sink at this consistent silence he had to endure at the moment. A little bit of him was dying each day and to be honest, Antonio didn't think it was possible.

The way his heart fluttered when Lovino looked at him or spoke to him…

The way his heart soared when Lovino had taken his hand and pulled him down the hall…

The electric spark that sent the rest of his body on overdrive…

The way his butterflies took flight in his stomach when he sat down next to the teen, reveling in the warmth radiating off of him. Lovino had made him so nervous that day, the way he studied him with those beautiful emerald eyes…

Could… it really be true?

Had Antonio fallen for his next door neighbor and friend?

How had he not noticed? How could he have ignored his heart's subtle whispers? But even with the truth realized, Antonio knew it could never be. As far as he knew, Lovino wasn't like that. He'd never seen him flirt with other guys like the way Feliciano does with Ludwig.

Antonio wondered if he had fallen for him too fast. How could someone be in love so quickly? It usually took months. His heart told him he was being stubborn and just accept the truth. Perhaps he being too trusting. That would eventually be his undoing.

Thinking of their current situation, Antonio asked aloud, "Am I undone?"

He glanced at the clock.

7:50.

He'd probably be at school right now if his mother wasn't keeping him home because of a doctor's appointment they had to go to at 8:30. He'd be attending school in the afternoon but he wanted to go now… to see Lovino, even if said teen was avoiding him like the plague.

Antonio sighed, trying to remember the last time his parents had taken him to the hospital. It was a few weeks ago. He attempted at remembering how his mother was acting. Well, she was indeed worried or she wouldn't have taken him in the first place. But the chipper attitude remained. He recalled her examining the hospital room thoroughly, fascinated by the machines and their purposes. When the doctor came in, she asked him a slew of questions so fast the man could hardly keep up. He assured her after he was finished with the small check-up he would answer any questions they would have.

Adelita watched the practitioner with careful eyes as he checked all of Antonio's vitals. She was practically breathing down the man's neck. His father had to tell her more than once to sit down so the doctor could do his job. She sat down with an exasperated huff and didn't talk to his father for the rest of the visit—like a child who didn't get her way and was ignoring her parents with a pout. His mother had always been a strange woman. It didn't bother him any. He wasn't exactly a normal kid either.

After the medic was finished, he was once again bombarded with the interrogation: _"What's wrong with him?" "Is he okay?" "What needs to be done?" "Does it require surgery?" "What kind of medication are you going to prescribe him?" "Will it counteract with all his other medication?"_

He then set those odd findings aside. What else was anomalous about her?

Hmm…

Oh! She was bringing him things to drink constantly now, saying that drinking fluids would help with his throat (it had the exact opposite effect). They always tasted weird like his food did. Like… like she had put something in it. She told him the usual: don't tell her that it tasted funny. It was the Class A pet-peeve of hers. Of course, Antonio did as told and drank it anyway. Again, who was he to question her?

There was always a grainy residue at the bottom of the cup and in his mouth as if he had just eaten a mouthful of sand from the sandbox. She would watch him as he drank it, an eager smile on her face, urging him to keep going despite the disgusted look he was giving her.

Antonio slid out of bed, ghosting down the hall noiselessly. His mother was supposed to be making him some tea to soothe his throat. That was 30 minutes ago. It sure was taking an awful long time to prepare it. What could be keeping her? Overly curious, Antonio travelled down the stairs and stopped when he heard his mother's sweet voice humming a tune he immediately recognized as a lullaby she sang to him as a child.

Memories of those times were faint but his subconscious remembered nonetheless. He didn't realize it but he had begun mouthing the words with the tune, becoming lost in his childhood. There was something wrong about it, he noticed. It sounded… darker. He poked his head around the corner and smiled upon seeing his mother doing a small twirl, her dress blooming like a flower around her body. Antonio watched her dance gracefully about the kitchen as she sang. The teen swore she had the voice of an angel.

There were three mugs on the counter and one already had the tea in it as Antonio could see it was steaming. Adelita then set the other two aside and began digging in the medicinal cabinet. She pulled out a familiar bottle of pills Antonio recognized as one of his antibiotics. What was she doing with that? He already took those pills. Was he going to have to take them again?

Adelita poured three pills into her palm before closing the bottle and placing it back in the cabinet. She placed the three pills on the countertop and there was a crunching sound. She moved away from that area and what was left of the medication was now reduced to a powder. When she returned with the mug full of tea, he saw her scoot the medicinal powder into the cup. She then grabbed a spoon and stirred it lightly. It was by this point she had already stopped humming.

"Hopefully Antonio won't taste it this time. I've been careless these last few times. I need him the doctor's as soon as possible," she said to herself, the spoon clanking against the cup every few seconds.

Antonio felt his stomach drop the lowest it could possibly go. That grainy taste was from the medicine? His mother had been grounding it and putting it in his drink? It was… it was… no! He must've been seeing things! This must've been a dream—a _horrible_ lucid dream! His mother wouldn't—! His mother couldn't—!

Adelita picked up the mug and proceeded to fill up the other mugs with tea but no medication. Antonio hauled himself upstairs and back into his room. He wasn't going to drink that! He'd die of overdosing without even doing any _real _drugs! What was his mother trying to do? Kill him?

Why would she want to do that?

Why?

_Look in the fucking mirror, Antonio._

Antonio pulled off his shirt and stared at himself in the mirror, seeing his thinness in an entirely different, more sinister light. His mother was causing all of his symptoms—all of his sickness. The bruises from the constant IV injections and poking and prodding with medical utensils… that was _her _doing. The nausea, vomiting and weakness… that was all _her._ _She _was setting him up for this. _She _was killing him from the inside out.

All those times his food tasted horrible and sour… was it the medicine or something else? It sure as hell wasn't medicine in his soup when it made his throat feel like it had caught fire! What could it have been?

_Or better yet, ask your mother._

Lovino's last words to him were still there, buzzing around like an aggravated hornet's nest, stinging his heart and mind in all the right places. Why hadn't he seen it before? The little boy from his dreams… that was him. And those weren't dreams… they were memories. Memories of visits to the hospital at the tender age of five his mind had stored away due to trauma. His overbearing fear of hospitals and needles… it was finally explained.

Where was his father at when he needed him?

A knock at his door tore him from his thoughts and Adelita's voice came through.

"_Antonio, sweetie, may I come in? I have your tea~"_

"I'm not in the mood to drink it anymore, Mama. I'm not feeling too good. I think it's the tea making me sick," Antonio did his best to sound raspy and nauseous as pulled his shirt back on his body and climbed into his bed.

"Nonsense! The tea is supposed to help you!" Adelita entered his bedroom anyway with a sprightly grin on her face. But to Antonio, that was the most sadistic, twisted grin he had ever laid eyes on. It scared him how easily it fit on her beautiful face.

Antonio moved his attention to the mug in her hand, watching the steam rise out of it. The medicine was swirling in the dark liquid, waiting for the opportunity to work its magic. Adelita practically shoved the cup in Antonio's face and the tea sloshed about wildly to the point where it almost spilled over.

"Go on, drink up~!"

He could see now that that grin was forced. She wasn't truly smiling at him. She was scorning at him, wishing him dead and taking every chance there was to get him closer to death's door. He'd been left on the doorstep a few times but never knocked.

Antonio politely pushed it back, "No thank you. I don't want it anymore."

"But I made it with a special ingredient that I'm sure you're going to love~!" Adelita gave a little pout. She often used these guilt trips to get Antonio to eat or drink whatever she wanted him to. Well, not anymore. He wasn't having it today.

"No thanks."

"Antonio," Adelita's smile vanished faster than a candle in a storm. "Drink it. It'll help you get better, I promise."

"No, Mom, I don't want it. If you don't mind, from now on, when I want something to drink, I'll get it myself. I'm not a baby anymore."

"But you're sick! You can hardly walk some days! I'm here to help you and, damn it, I'm going to help you. I'm your mother and you do as I say. Drink the tea," she shoved the cup in his face again.

He rejected it and some of the liquid spilled onto the floor, "I don't want it, Mom! What else can I say to make you understand?"

"Damn it, Antonio, just drink it!"

"_NO!"_

"You must be really sick in the head to be yelling at me like that!"

"Where do you think I got it from? The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it, Mother?" Antonio's eyes were steely.

Adelita was quiet then, silently fuming.

"What the hell is going on in here? I could hear you yelling all the way outside," Emilio came in, sounding more than a little frustrated.

"Emilio, dear, tell Antonio to drink the tea I made for him. It's supposed to help him get better," Adelita turned to her husband, pleading with her emerald eyes.

"I don't want it, Dad. I'm not sick—I feel fine," Antonio reasoned.

"If he doesn't want it, Adelita, then don't force it on him. Just leave it there. When he wants to drink it, he will," the man sighed, scratching his mop of curly hair.

"Says the person without a nursing degree," Adelita growled.

"You know, if you keep forcing all these remedies on him, his body will ultimately reject them," Emilio spoke in the calmest of tones, which usually meant he wasn't too pleased with the situation. Antonio's dad had always been slow to anger.

Adelita on the other hand, was not, and shoved the cup in Emilio's unsuspecting hands and grumbled about not getting any respect. Luckily for him, he had caught it in time before the hot liquid spilled on him.

Emilio placed it on the nightstand beside Antonio's bed and smiled at him, "Don't worry about your mother, son, she's just in one of those moods again. Drink it, don't drink it, dump it down the sink, throw it out the window, it doesn't matter to me. It's here if you want it and if not… do as you please. Just try and relax okay? I'll take care of your mother."

He then left, shutting the door softly behind him. Antonio scrambled out of bed and opened his bedroom window, throwing the tea onto the unsuspecting bushes below.

* * *

Lovino shut his locker, waiting for the stampede of students to clear before heading for the exit. He didn't want to run into any teachers, particularly Mrs. Russo. He leaned against wall, sighing heavily. Where had Antonio been? He didn't see him at lunch as he passed by their table. Maybe he called in sick.

_Yeah, "sick" according to his mother, _Lovino thought bitterly, remembering the research he had done.

The Italian watched the clock on the wall, the second hand almost putting him in a trance. When were these damn halls going to clear? He hated it when people lingered! It was Monday for goodness sake! Who wanted to hang around school on a Monday or hell, _any _day for that matter! He had to get home—

"Lovino."

Said Italian immediately recognized the person approaching him and he needed to head in the other direction but his heart and mind yelled at him to stay. He stood frozen in place, captured by those eyes that were so much brighter than his own.

"Antonio, w-what're you doing, idiot? I already told you that I can't be seen with you," Lovino looked down at the ground only to have his head tilted back up by the Spaniard's hand.

Lovino's cheeks were immediately painted red as he stared into those gem-like orbs. There was a different light in them today… a light of knowing and understanding…

Antonio caught the shorter teen by surprise when he was pulled into a strong hug and Antonio buried his head in the crook of Lovino's neck, shaking lightly. Lovino didn't return the hug—his hands were kind of pinned to Antonio's torso—and just simply allowed the Spaniard to hold him. He'd been waiting for this…

_He's so warm, _Lovino thought and questioned afterwards, "What's gotten into you, tomato-jerk? Why the hell are you so clingy all the damn time?"

"I'm so sorry, Lovi. I'm so sorry. I finally understand and I want to thank you for telling me. I would've died if you didn't," Antonio's spoke through trembling tones.

At first, Lovino was utterly confused. What was he talking about? What had he told him?

"My own mother's been poisoning me for so long and I've finally stopped denying it."

Ah, _that _was what he was talking about.

"It's about time you came around, tomato-bastard. Why would I lie to you? I have no fucking reason to," Lovino sighed, now starting to squirm out of Antonio's hold.

"I know and I'm sorry. I promise to never, ever doubt you again because you're the best friend I've ever had in my entire life!"

"Don't get all sappy on me now, _idiota. _Look, I did some research. What she has is called Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. It's another form of Munchausen Syndrome which is when someone makes themselves sick. The 'by proxy' part means she's doing it to another person—you," Lovino explained. "You might want to look it up for yourself. You can get help for her."

Antonio nodded, taking it all in.

"Well, I have to go," Lovino made his way past Antonio and yelped when the Spaniard suddenly grabbed him by his arm again.

"Idiot! That hurts! There's a bruise there! Let go!" Lovino ripped his arm away.

"What about you? What will you do about your father?"

"There's nothing to be done," Lovino replied.

"There's always something to be done! Don't give me that crap! He's hurting you, Lovino! Don't you even care? Don't you even care about your own health?" Antonio's eyes were begging that Lovino understand just like he had come to understand.

"If my brother and mother are safe, I could care less what happens to me," Lovino stepped to the side to pass and Antonio only took his wrist and held it firmly.

"So you think you don't matter? Is that it? You think you're not important?"

Lovino was quiet.

"Lovi, you matter more than you realize. Bella, Elizabeta, Lili, Feliciano and your mother all care about you—including me. Don't listen to anything your father tells you because they're all lies. He's trying to make you think you—"

"Oh, stop pretending that you care! Just stop!" Lovino shouted, his voice echoing through the halls. "I can't be let down again. I won't allow it."

"Lovino, just listen—"

"No! I'm tired, Antonio, okay? I'm tired of being disappointed! I'm tired of being told that I matter when I really know I don't! My father had me erase my existence! He told his friends he lost his first born son! I never get to leave the house and have fun! I'm fucking dead to them! I'm nothing! It doesn't take what my father says for me to know that because it's true!"

"Lovino, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down! There is no such thing as a happy ending in this world!"

"Of course there is if you're willing to fight for it—for what's rightfully yours!" Antonio retorted, effectively shutting the Italian up. The taller of the two sighed, reprimanding himself for letting his temper flare up like that. "Lovino, don't put yourself down like that. Your father does that enough. You don't need to help him. And I promise I'm not pretending when I say that I care about you. I mean it with all my heart. And I don't ever go back on my word."

Lovino could only look at the teen that stole his heart and swallowed thickly.

"Promise?" Lovino choked out.

"I promise. I wouldn't lie to you," Antonio nodded, ready to make the biggest decision and probably the best mistake of his life. "I love you with all my heart, Lovino Vargas."

Forest green eyes widened at the confession and he felt his heart thunder against his ribcage. Had he heard correctly? Had Antonio really just…? Yes… there was no doubt. The look in Antonio's eyes was not betraying the words he had spoken.

This was all so sudden.

So...

So...

Perfect...

"_Ti amo."_

_May 18__th__—_

_Will he let me down easy?_


	9. Chapter 8

**Shit has hit the fan.**

**That's all I'll say.**

**Warnings: Language, violence and... other things.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

Hint:

(English translations)

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

_May 26__th __2008—_

_I can't say how happy I am so I'm just going to write it down. We finally told how we felt about one another and it went ten times better than I expected. He actually… he actually loves me back. He _loves _me. He loves _me._ I keep telling myself that because in all honesty, I can't believe it. I can't believe that… look at me, I can't even explain myself!_

_Am I happy?_

_You have no idea._

_Feliciano and the girls won't shut up about us getting together though. It's a huge pain in the ass. No one else knows about our relationship—yet—and we've both agreed to keep it on the down low. These kinds of things spread like wildfire and if it doesn't work out between us, then I'd rather save ourselves extra trouble._

_I've ignored my father's orders entirely and see Antonio whenever I can. If he doesn't like it then, oh well. Fuck him. It's time I do what I want to do. I'm not a scared little kid anymore. I'm strong enough to hold my ground. And damn it, the next time he hits me, he'll get more than he bargained for._

_After so many years of being thrown around at my house, he treats me as if I'm made of fine china—like he'll break me if he hugs me too hard or something. He's an idiot sometimes. But he keeps telling me he's proud of me. He's proud that I've remained this strong for so long. He says so many teens take their lives or go completely off the deep end. I told him I've been to the edge and have come closer than he could ever imagine to jumping._

_He said he was glad I decided not to take the plunge. Then he would've never gotten the chance to meet a wonderful person such as me. Those are his words, not mine. This probably wasn't the smartest or kindest thing to say but I asked him about his situation—if he had ever thought about… death. Well, he also told me how close he was, too. When he was around 12 or 13 years old, he had come down with something awful. He didn't remember what it was but he said that he was stuck in the hospital for half a month._

_He said that the pain was so great and it felt like it was tearing his insides apart, like he had been set on fire. Everything hurt—every twitch, cough or sneeze. He could hardly move and when he had to get out of bed, he said it was like walking on pins in needles that had been heated._

_The doctors couldn't make a diagnosis as far as he could remember. He said in that period of time, he thought about just calling it quits and letting death take hold. Like him, I'm glad he didn't. He's stronger than anyone I've ever met. Most kids die at a young age because of parents who are like his mom. If he's managed to go this long, nothing can stop him._

_I'm supposed to meet up with him later on tonight. He says he wants to show me something beautiful. I haven't a clue what it is but beauty is in the eye of the beholder is what they say. We're going around midnight when everyone is asleep. This won't be the first time I've snuck out with Antonio. We just go on little walks and stuff, nothing too extravagant. But he said it will be different and more special than anything so I'm curious. If Father catches me… then so be it. It'll be worth the sacrifice. No one knows about our meetings and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible._

_On a brighter note, I'm working on another song. It was given as "homework" by my neurotic teacher. He wants it to be longer this time and told me to surprise him once again. He wants me to put as much feeling into it as possible—he wants it come from this broken heart of mine. I think I can. I hope I can. I already have most of it down on paper._

_It's called "Alone in the Dark."_

_Is that enough to convey my feelings?_

Lovino stored his journal. It was about time he cooked dinner. He hurried down the stairs and once he reached the kitchen, Feliciano and his mother were already bustling about, preparing it. He watched them, greatly puzzled and a little frightened for them. What if his father caught them?

"There you are _fratello!_ We were wondering when you were going to wake up from your nap. You were sleeping so soundly—like a cute little _bambino_!" Feliciano teased, making Lovino blush a deep crimson.

"Sh-Shut up, idiot!"

"Boys, settle down. Feliciano, stop teasing your brother and Lovino, don't call him an idiot," Felisa reprimanded in a gentle tone. That gentle tone meant she was serious.

The brothers sighed in unison, "Yes ma'am."

After a moment of watching them, Lovino spoke up, "I thought I was supposed to be making dinner tonight. Isn't Father home?"

"Nope!" Felisa grinned. "He's coming home late from work tonight and we thought we'd give you a break. He's been working you like a dog ever since he saw you and Antonio together. You deserved a good rest. And if he asks questions, we'll just tell him you made it."

The teen stood there, absolutely dumbfounded. What else could he do? There was nothing else, really. He had completed all of his chores and homework before he passed out on his bed from exhaustion.

"You just sit and relax _fratello. _We've got this covered!" Feliciano beamed his trademark smile.

Lovino just sat at the table and watched his brother and mother work, feeling at a bit of a loss. There was not a time in his life did he not have something to do. Whether it was to clean, cook, or run errands, he was always busy. He sighed. It was kind of nice.

"Lovino, how is your piano song coming? I hear you humming it all the time," Felisa wondered.

"Oh, it's good, I guess…" the teen replied.

"I would love to hear it," his mother smiled.

"But it's not done yet," Lovino could feel his stomach wring up in large knots. Never had he ever performed in front of his family! It was a little nerve wracking to say the least.

"That's okay, dear," she said. "Can we please hear it? I'm sure it's lovely."

"Yeah, _fratello, _I want to hear, too!" his animated younger brother cheered.

Lovino swallowed rather loudly and reluctantly made his way to the piano. He sat down in front of it, mentally preparing himself. What if she didn't like it? Having already memorized half of it by heart, Lovino closed his eyes and started, letting the music do the talking.

It started out sad and slow, repeating the same tune several times. Feliciano and Felisa listened from afar as the music drifted through the house. The woman felt a tug at her heart's strings as it thrummed inside her chest. Such sorrow… such deep sorrow… and pain. A single tear slipped down her rosy cheek.

The music began picking up in speed about a minute in before slowing down again, not once losing that grieving touch. Feliciano listened on and said nothing. He didn't need to. He knew what this song was about. He knew what his brother was feeling. Words were unnecessary. He then saw his mother let that one tear fall to the floor and he began to wonder: how many tears had Lovino cried all these years? Hundreds? Thousands? Millions? The number was infinite.

Silence faded into the house after Lovino was finished and travelled back to the kitchen where his mother and brother were waiting. He stood there, fidgeting almost, anticipating what they would say to him.

"That was beautiful, Lovino. Truly beautiful," Felisa smiled at her son. "You've come a long way. I'm so proud of you."

And for the first time in a long time, Lovino actually returned it with a smile of his own.

* * *

"So how are things going with that Lovino kid next door? I hardly ever see you two hang out," Emilio asked at the dinner table as they were waiting for the food.

"His parents are… strict, so he can't go out much. But we see each other a lot at school," Antonio replied, shrugging a little.

"Hmm, they seemed nice enough to me," Emilio said. "That's just my opinion though. I don't live with them so I can't see what they're like every day."

Adelita placed the plates full of food in front of her husband and son then sat down with her own. Antonio stared at the platter with contempt. Did it look innocent? Sure. Did it look appetizing? You bet. But Antonio pushed it away anyway and folded his arms over his chest. He refused to eat or drink anything his mother gave him now and stuck to midnight snacks to hold him over until lunch at school the next day where he would practically engorge himself so he wouldn't be hungry for dinner and not starving the next morning.

And the Spanish teen felt better than he had in a long time. Ever since he stopped eating his mother's food, his sore throat had been cured and he had gained some weight. Seven pounds to be accurate. He now weighed 114 pounds instead of 107. He was quite proud of himself to say the least. He had made so much progress in a short amount of time. His skin was coming closer to returning to its normal tan hue rather than the washed out one. His hair was going back to normal too—a silky dark brunette.

His mother had noticed and was not particularly thrilled.

"Antonio, eat your food," she said, not looking up from her plate.

"I'm not hungry," Antonio's tone left no room for argument. However, knowing his mother, she was going to keep pushing him.

"You need to eat, Antonio. It's not healthy," Adelita urged. "You could get sick again."

"To tell you the truth, Mother, I've been feeling much better these past few days since I've stopped eating your food. What have you been putting in it?" Antonio shot back.

Adelita's eyes narrowed to merely slits and her emerald eyes were as cold as green ice. Emilio pinched the bridge of his nose. Those two were constantly at each other's throats with Adelita trying to force Antonio to eat and Antonio downright refusing to. It was getting very tiresome very quickly. He didn't have much patience left.

"Emilio, talk to your son," Adelita rested her head in her hand in frustration while picking at her food.

The man sighed. Why was he always the one having to pick up the mess?

"May I be excused?" Antonio asked.

"Sure," Emilio waved him away.

"No you may not," Adelita growled. "You're not going to leave this table until you've eaten every single thing on your plate."

"You can't make me eat it," Antonio challenged.

"You _will _eat that food, do you understand me?"

"No I will not. What're you going to do? Shove it down my throat?"

"If that's what it takes."

"That's enough! Both of you stop it right now!" Emilio shouted, greatly shocking both his wife and son. Never in his life had Antonio heard his father yell. He was usually such a calm and collected man, total opposite to the woman he married and the boy he helped conceive.

Silence fell upon the family of three and the duo in question didn't dare make a move.

"You two are being absolutely ridiculous! You've been fighting non-stop for the past week and I'm tired of it! You'd better learn to straighten it up and stop acting like you're both damn five years old!" Emilio's lowered in volume but not in anger.

Antonio stormed from the table and to his room where his slamming door nearly shook the house.

"I need to talk to you before you talk to Antonio," Emilio turned his rigid gaze on his wife before leaving the table as well.

* * *

Lovino waited in the darkness of his and Feliciano's room, listening for the slightest rustle from downstairs or down the hall. He was dressed and ready to go, watching the moon. Its white waters pooled into the room, illuminating Feliciano's sleeping form.

It was now 12:18.

Where was Antonio? Had he gotten caught up with his parents? He hoped not. He was really looking forward to this night. He was curious to know what Antonio had planned for them.

_Tap._

_Tap-tap._

_Tap._

Lovino went straight to the source of the noise and opened his window before another pebble could hit. Antonio was down below, waving and grinning. The Italian rolled his eyes and checked on his brother as the latter stirred. He paused, holding his breath while waiting for Feliciano to settle. He then ripped his sheet from his bed as quietly as possible. He tied it tightly around the bedpost and gave it a tug to make it sure it was secure. The teen tossed it out the window and slowly slid his way down.

The first time he attempted his escape, he was scared out of his wits. What if it came undone and he fell? This kind of thing only worked in the movies! It took nearly ten minutes of Antonio convincing Lovino that it would be fine. It wasn't that long of a fall anyway.

"All right, what're you going to show me?" Lovino asked, already fed up with being kept in suspense.

"It's a surprise, Lovi~!" the other grinned all too innocently before taking Lovino's hand and heading in the direction of said surprise.

After about a ten minute walk, Antonio suddenly stopped and Lovino, who wasn't paying attention, bumped into him none too gracefully.

"You idiot! You can't just stop in front of people like that without warning them first!" Lovino grumbled.

"_Lo siento, querido, _but we are almost there. I need you to close your eyes though," Antonio smiled as he moved behind his lover and covered those gorgeous forest green orbs with his hands.

"What? Why?" Lovino questioned.

"Like I said, it's a surprise," Antonio chuckled. "I'll lead you along, don't worry."

"You'd better not let me fall!"

"Never!" the Spaniard laughed. "Okay, now go forward."

Lovino took an anxious step, one foot after the other. He only began to get comfortable when Antonio gave him guidance to the right.

"There are lots of trees here, Lovi. Walk carefully," Antonio warned.

"If I fall, I swear…"

"I'll catch you before you do, _mi amor."_

"Y-You'd better…"

This went on for another few minutes, Antonio guiding and Lovino trying to fall flat on his face. Unbeknownst to the Italian, they were in an area few people knew about. Even those who had lived here all their lives were unaware.

"Stop," Antonio said and Lovino halted. "Are you ready?"

"Of course I am! What kind of question is that? Just let me see already!"

"Open them," Antonio removed his hands.

Emerald eyes fluttered open to find themselves illuminated by a small glowing light dancing in front of them. Lovino stood perfectly still as it kissed the tip of his nose and flew away to join the other hovering orbs flittering about the open air.

Fireflies.

They were everywhere! There must've been hundreds of them!

Those tiny creatures were the only source of light in the perimeter. They rested on trees, leaves and the tall grasses that tickled their ankles. Lovino was completely entranced by the sheer beauty they gave to such an empty place. He watched his hands as a few landed on his fingers and crawled along them harmlessly before bursting into flight again. It brought a smile to Lovino's handsome features.

Antonio couldn't help but be amused by his lover's reaction and chuckled as he strolled towards him, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" Lovino was still watching the lightning bugs scatter aimlessly, not at all bothered by their presence. "How did you even find this place?"

"When I'm upset about something, I go on walks to clear my head. One night I managed to stumble across this place. I sat here for hours and just stared at them," Antonio let one rest in the palm of his hand. "There are more of these little guys now than there were when I first came here."

Lovino just nodded, still mesmerized.

"And what's great is that you and I are the only ones who know about this place. It's so deep in the thicket, not many people come back here. I come back whenever I can. They always manage to cheer me up somehow. They're kind of cute once you think about it," Antonio smiled.

Many suddenly started to take place on Antonio's body and the Spaniard laughed, being careful not to move too much and scare them off.

"That tickles!" Antonio giggled as one started to crawl along his face.

Lovino let out a light chuckle at the sight of his boyfriend lit up like a Christmas tree. But it just made him that much more beautiful to the Italian. If someone had asked Lovino in the past, there was no way that he would've ever pictured himself loving someone other than his mother and brother—and said someone being of the same gender, no less. He didn't regret it though. He would never regret it. Antonio made him happy and he hoped that he had the same effect.

"Lovinito, don't move," Antonio said between laughs. "One's on your head!"

Said teen stood completely still as it scuttled along his thick brown locks. He then felt it take flight and he watched it blend into the other floating lights. Lovino started to remember those times he wanted to fly away from everything he had been buried under. He wanted to disappear completely.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back against their owner's body. Antonio rested his chin atop Lovino's head and sighed in content. It was perfect here. He had who he loved most right here in his arms, safe and sound and away from that monster who sought to tear them apart. What that man did not know was that it was only making their love for each other grow fiercer each and every day they were kept from one another. And it would only continue to grow.

Antonio kissed the top of Lovino's head before moving his lips to the shell of the Italian's ear and whispered these words in the sweetest singing voice Lovino had ever heard:

**_Sento nell'aria profumo di te_**

**_Piccoli sogni vissuti con me_**

**_Ora lo so_**

**_Non voglio perderti_**

**_Quella dolcezza così senza età_**

**_La tua bellezza rivali non ha_**

**_Il cuore mio vuole soltanto te_**

_(I smell in the air the scent of you_

_Little dreams had lived with me_

_Now I know,_

_I don't want to lose you_

_That sweetness which has no age_

_Your beauty has no rivals_

_My heart wants only you)_

It sent shivers down the shorter teen's spine as he heard his native language being used. He hung on each word, taking it to heart, mind, body and soul.

**_Per te, per te, vivrò_**

**_L'amore vincerà_**

**_Con te, con te avrò_**

**_Mille giorni di felicità_**

**_Mille notti di serenità_**

**_Farò quello che mi chiederai_**

**_Andrò sempre dovunque tu andrai_**

**_Darò tutto l'amore che ho per te_**

_(For you, for you, I'll live_

_Love is going to win_

_With you, with you, I'll have_

_Thousands days of happiness_

_Thousands nights of serenity_

_I'll do what you'll ask me to_

_I'll go always anywhere you go_

_I'll give all the love I feel for you)_

Lovino leaned his head back on Antonio's shoulder with cheeks brushed red. It was then that Antonio stopped singing and they simply enjoyed being together underneath a starlit sky and surrounded by a golden glow with the moon being their only witness—a silent witness.

"Lovino," Antonio said and said teen turned to face the other.

"Yeah?"

Antonio sealed the distance between them with a chaste kiss—a kiss that blew Lovino's mind. After recovering from the shock, Lovino easily melted into it. The protective case he had built around his heart crumbled to dust as he was prepared to be with the Spaniard as long as possible.

The kiss broke and as jade met forest green, the fireflies that once enveloped them were drifting away.

They didn't know how long they stood there but as the minutes ticked away, a knot was tying itself deep in Lovino's stomach, giving him a feeling he didn't particularly enjoy. His body suddenly tensed and Antonio immediately noticed, asking what was wrong.

"I don't know," Lovino answered. "I should get home before Feliciano wakes up and freaks out because I'm not there."

"Sounds like a plan. Come on," Antonio slipped his hand into Lovino's and led the teen out of the foliage and back into the main part of town.

The knot in Lovino's stomach tightened with each step and he wanted to double over in pain. Something was definitely wrong. He prayed to God that his mother and brother were okay. He would never forgive himself if that man laid a hand on either of them.

Upon arriving at the house, Lovino's stomach had settled considerably. The lights were still out. That either could've been a great or horrible sign.

"Are you going to be all right from here, Lovi?"

"Y-Yeah. I'll be fine. You go on home before you get caught," Lovino gulped slightly. The feeling was back… it was making him nauseous.

"You sure?"

"Yes, now go."

Placing one more kiss on those perfect lips, Antonio regrettably released Lovino's warm hand, "See you tomorrow? Same time?"

"Yeah," Lovino tugged on the sheet to make sure it was still secure enough for his weight. He then used all his strength to lug himself up along it, finally reaching his window.

Antonio waited until Lovino had gone inside before leaving.

_Please be okay, Lovinito._

The Italian teen climbed over the window sill and pulled his sheet back in. He closed the window and removed his shoes quietly. He was about to crawl back into bed when his bedroom light suddenly turned on and he froze completely. An all too familiar chill ran along his spine and his stomach was clenching unbearably.

"Welcome back. Did you have a good time?" that gruff voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Lovino turned around and his eyes met those he had feared for so long, "More than you know."

"Well it's about to get even better!" Damiano grabbed Lovino by his shirt and shoved him out the room.

The teen raced down the stairs where his mother and Feliciano were waiting. His brother looked as if he had committed murder and was paler than the sheets on their beds. Felisa only watched with fretful eyes, not knowing what her husband was planning. She could usually predict but Damiano was drunk—more so than he had been in a long time.

"I unregistered your sorry ass from school today," Damiano said and Lovino spun on his heel.

"You did _what? Why?"_

"Don't question me, boy!" the man snarled. "You can thank your brother over there for ratting you out."

Lovino shifted his gaze to his sibling who cringed like an animal who had been hit.

"You seem to already have a career planned out so I'm going to help you with that."

"What're you talking about? You're drunk!" Lovino demanded.

"You want to be a little whore? Then allow me to introduce you to your first client," Damiano smirked and another man had entered the room with a ghoulish smirk on his face, reeking of alcohol.

Whore? Client? What the hell was going on here? Where had this guy come from?

"There's a bed down in the basement. Do what you want with him," Damiano nodded towards Lovino and the man's sneer only broadened.

He grabbed Lovino by the wrist and started dragging him towards the stairwell leading to the basement. But Lovino wasn't going down without a fight. He kicked, tugged at his wrists and even tried biting the man.

"Damiano, stop! This is going too far! Enough!" Felisa shrieked and marched over to her husband. "He's just a boy! Don't do this to him! Stop!"

The young father suddenly had Felisa locked in a chokehold, gun flush to her head.

"Mama! Dad, no! Don't!" Feliciano begged.

Lovino ceased to move or even breathe.

"You fight, she dies. Simple as that. Give my friend what he wants and you'd better be worth his money… whore," his father's eyes had never been more serious.

"Lovino, don't—" Felisa ground out through clenched teeth.

"Shut up, bitch," Damiano pressed the barrel harder to her head and his attention was back to Lovino. "Well, boy? What're you going to do? Don't you even care if your mother dies? Or your brother?"

"L-Leave them alone. Don't touch them… please," tears pricked the corners of Lovino's eyes. "I'll do it. Just leave them alone."

"That's what I like to hear."

"Lovino, no!" his mother choked out before Damiano tightened his grip.

"If I hear you put up a fight, you'll regret it," Damiano challenged. "Go."

The man holding Lovino firmly gave yanked him down the stairwell and it wasn't long until his cries of pain echoed into the night, falling on deaf ears.


	10. Chapter 9

**You all pissed? Good. I'm pissed at myself for what I made happen in the last chapter. Damiano is a sick little bastard, isn't he? And to think he spawned from my devious mind. I'm evil, I know. I'm going to stop talking and let you guys continue. But before I go, I have another poll on my profile. Check it out if you have time. It will remain until the end of this story.**

**EDIT: The song Antonio sings is "Per Te" by Josh Groban**

**Happy reading~**

**Warnings: Language, violence and (now) sexual themes.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

From the single window in the basement, sunlight trickled in, shining down on a lithe figure tangled in the bed sheets that only hid half the bruises marring his body. The sun brought anything but warmth. He remained still, excluding the slow rise and fall of his chest. Someone else entered the room, watching as he slept. The newcomer moved to the side of the bed and with a gentle hand, they brushed back strands of dark hair veiling the bruise on the sleeping person's face. Amber eyes filled with tears at the sight of it.

"_Fratello," _the owner of such eyes knelt down and shook the other's shoulder. "_Fratello, _wake up."

"Mm…" Lovino groaned and shifted ever so slightly.

Feliciano tenderly shook him again, _"Fratello, _wake up, please. It's time to get up."

Forest green eyes eventually revealed themselves, scanning the room lethargically.

"Where am I…?" Lovino's voice was hoarse from his pain-filled screams.

"You're still in the basement. I'm going to help you get cleaned up," Feliciano replied.

"Feli? Is that you?" Lovino lifted his aching head.

"Yes, _fratello. _It's me. I'm here," the younger placed his hand on Lovino's only for the latter to pull it away. Feliciano drew his hand back, surprised at the action.

"You told," was all Lovino said.

"_Fratello—"_

"Do you realize that I'll never see Antonio again? As long as I am under this roof, I'm a prisoner and a slave while you're here gallivanting about seeing Ludwig whenever the hell you want to! I hope you're fucking happy with your choice!" Lovino growled, making a failed attempt to sit up.

Pain was shooting all throughout his body and he was forced to be still and try to endure it.

"_Fratello, _he lied to you! I didn't tell him anything! I promise!"

"Get out, Feliciano. Leave me alone."

"But—"

"_Get out!"_

The younger of the two fled the room and the door slammed shut.

Lovino sighed, trying to gather his bearings. He wanted to cry. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to die. But that was too easy. He felt dirty—_filthy. _That man had touched him in ways that were meant for the one who he was going to be spending the rest of his life man had taken everything from him, even that last bit of innocence he was clinging to. The sheets were randomly spotted a disgusting red.

Blood.

_His _blood.

He wanted to vomit. He wanted to cry.

Mustering all of his stolen strength, Lovino used the small table beside the bed to assist him in standing, letting out a small cry at the pain burning from his rear end up along his spine before it ignited the rest of his body. He gave it time to simmer down before even considering taking a single step forward towards the small bathroom.

"Come on, Lovino," he encouraged himself. "You can make it. Don't let him break you."

_Why not just give up? _The voice in his head hissed in dark amusement. _You're at the end of your rope, kid. Say it—you know you want to die. You're finished with this life! You want nothing to do with your family or your fake boyfriend._

Lovino pointedly ignored its whispers. He couldn't listen to it now—not at a time like this. Not when he was so close to falling apart completely. Fully adjusted, the teen limped forward and the agony slammed into him like a boulder and his mind reeled. He was so close to blacking out again…

_Don't. Fight it. Don't be weak._

With much concerted effort, Lovino had made it to the bathroom and leaned against the sink for support. His legs felt like jelly and his body was on fire. What a way to start his day…

He reached over and turned on the shower, sitting on the toilet after doing so. While waiting for the water to warm, he inspected himself, counting each of the bruises.

One… two… three… four…

Ten total. He ran his fingers along the dark purple marks. He didn't remember much of last night and he didn't want to. He had shut everything out in the very beginning. It was all a surreal blur. These bruises, though, these painful mementos were there so he couldn't possibly forget. Even if his mind had no recollection, his body did. Every touch was like a toxin.

Steam began rising out of the shower and Lovino stepped under the water, wanting to drown in it. The water ran smoothly down his body and all the while Lovino just stood there and closed his eyes.

_Dirty._

_Filthy._

_Whore._

_Unloved._

_Unwanted._

He could feel the man pinning his arms above his head again and smell the stench of alcohol on his breath. It burned his nostrils and as the man forcibly kissed him, he could taste it in his mouth. His lips were meant for no one else but the Spaniard he had fallen in love with. No one else had that right. No one else was supposed to touch him like that. He felt that it was a betrayal to Antonio.

_What will Antonio think of you now, whore? You're dirty! You're undeserving of his love! You've crushed his heart! How dare you let another man other than the one you love take advantage of you like that!_

…it was true.

It was all true.

He didn't think he'd be able to face Antonio again. He didn't have the right to look in those gorgeous eyes and say "I love you." He had been stripped of that privilege along with his innocence and dignity. How would Antonio look at him now? He was tainted—no longer pure. Clear pearls of liquid regret trailed down Lovino's face.

He didn't have the right to those either.

_And to think that you enjoyed yourself! You're disgusting! A pig!_

"No…" Lovino grabbed at his head, trying to shut out the voice. "I didn't…!"

_Now you're a dirty whore and a liar? You're fucked up basket case, aren't you, kid?_

"Shut up! Just leave me alone!"

_Why are you getting so upset? Your own actions allowed this to happen. If you had never gone out with Antonio last night, this wouldn't be happening to you. It was your own selfish desires that made this possible. You deserve this! You deserve every bit of pain you feel!_

This… this was too much! Lovino feared for his sanity if this kept up. He knew his body was broken but his spirit had remained unyielding. To know that it was falling apart by the seams frightened the teen.

And he feared that he was powerless to stop it.

* * *

After showering, Lovino hobbled his way upstairs only to be pulled into a breathtaking hug by his mother. He fought in her grip, not exactly wanting to be touched at the moment. Warm tears made contact with his skin and he froze as she shook horribly.

"My boy… my baby boy… I'm so sorry, Lovino…"

_Sorry? _He scoffed inwardly.

Sorry was shit to him at this point.

"Mom, can you let me go?" Lovino spoke quietly. "I'm not exactly comfortable right now."

"But Lovino—"

"He wants to be alone, Mom," Feliciano was staring out the window with his back turned to them. "Touching him will only make him mad."

"What do you know?" Lovino snarled. "You wouldn't be able to handle a third of what I've had to endure and you know it!"

"I'm not the one who did this to you so don't go acting like everything is my fault!" Feliciano shot back.

"You're the one who told on me, you little shit! I wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for your sorry ass!"

"You weren't even there! You don't know what happened! You were God knows where doing God knows what while Mom and I were here defending you!" Feliciano retorted, now facing his brother with fire in his eyes.

Lovino wasn't fazed in the slightest, "Defending me? No, _defending _would be trying to stop Dad from beating the shit out of me! _Defending _would be actually trying to talk some sense into him! But did I see you do that? No! So don't talk about 'defending' me! I've been saving you! I'd rather endure the beating instead of you! I was _raped_ because of _you! _I lost everything including the one I love!"

"You should know better than to listen to what our father says! He lied to you, okay? He _lied! _He threatened to kill Mom if I told him what really happened!"

"What're you talking about?"

"When he got home, he came into our room and threw a fit when he saw you had snuck out the window. He woke me up and asked where you were. I told him I didn't know and then he beat me up a little," Feliciano showed his brother the bruise on his face. "Then he woke up Mama and threatened to kill her if I didn't tell him. I kept saying that I didn't know. We were waiting and that's when you came home."

The older brother was silent.

"We tried but he wouldn't listen," Feliciano's eyes began to moisten, unable to hold them back any longer. He hated arguing with his brother, the one he loved most out of his family next to his mother. "I should've stood up for you more… I should've been brave and said something… but—but the last time I tried to defend you, he put you in the hospital. I was so afraid after that…! I didn't want to hurt you anymore! I couldn't cause you anymore pain than you already were in…!"

Lovino said nothing and was pokerfaced.

"Family members are supposed to be there for each other… and I've failed you, _fratello. _I'm so sorry. I would understand if you hated me and never spoke to me again. But… I just needed to get this off my chest," Feliciano had stopped crying by this point and was staring at the floor.

It took a minute for Lovino to respond as he let Feliciano's words soak in. None of this was fair. Putting the blame on one another wasn't going to solve the problem. They had to stay together. They couldn't let this one incident tear them apart.

Lovino sighed, "You idiot. I could never hate you no matter what. You're my brother and we to stick together."

"I haven't been a very good brother, have I?" Feliciano's eyes were still damp. "I promise I'll try better! He won't hit you anymore! I promise!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Feli," Lovino said.

"No, I promise. He won't ever hit you again. Count on it."

There was an abnormal seriousness in Feliciano then, making Lovino wonder what his brother could possibly be thinking.

When Antonio left Lovino last night, he couldn't help the dread that took root in his heart. What had happened last night? Did his Lovinito get caught? He hoped not. Lovino was everything to him now—his heart and soul. He was the very essence of it. If Lovino was gone…

_No! No! Stop it! Don't think like that! Lovino is just fine!_

He had to stay positive. He would only drive himself nuts.

With nothing else better to do, the teen stared out his bedroom window, one that faced Lovino's house. And speaking of his little tomato, there the Italian was, sitting out of his front porch. He was home alone, obviously, or he'd be cooped up inside. That, or his dad wasn't in the house. Antonio rushed down the stairs and nearly tripped over his own two feet as he burst through his front door and ran to Lovino.

Said Italian had his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms locked firmly around them. He stared at the blades of grass but he wasn't really seeing them. He was too deep in his thoughts. Too deep in his memories. Antonio skidded to a stop and stood there for a moment, greatly puzzled as to why the Italian had yet to notice his presence.

"Lovi? Are you all right?" Antonio placed his hands on the teen's arms gently and looked deep into those green eyes he adored so much. Soon, those eyes widened in fear.

Lovino tensed completely and his breath hitched in his throat as everything came rushing back to him, murdering his mind and what could very well be the remnants of his sanity.

. . .

_The man was hovering above him with a devilish smirk on his face as he reveled in the fear from the trembling teen's expression. Lovino's hands were held above his head and he was stripped of his clothes by this complete stranger. The burly man drank in Lovino's lithe frame, studying him with hungry coffee eyes._

"_You're such a pretty little thing. How could I have missed you?" the man caressed Lovino's cheek._

_The teen jerked his face away and stared at the wall as tears began to brim his eyes. He just wished for the man to be done and spare him the humiliation._

"_Feisty, aren't we?"_

"_Not on your life, you son of a bitch," Lovino growled._

_The man's eyes narrowed to slits at the tone in his prey's voice._

_Then it came._

_The fire that reduced his innocence to ashes._

_It consumed him entirely and he cried out as his body felt like it would split in two. The tears spilled over, overflowing the banks of his eyes and blurring his vision. His mind spun wildly when the inferno would fade then come back, just as strong and ferocious as before._

_What could he possibly do?_

_He was helpless—a lamb to the slaughter._

Fight, _his instincts told him, _fight! Fight him! Fight it!

I can't, _he had to remind himself. _My family… I have to protect them.

_It wasn't long until the teen had blacked out._

. . .

Those hands…

Those hands were holding touching him…

No! The man was back! He came to take him! He wouldn't be able to handle it! Not again! He didn't want the fire to ignite his insides again!

"Get away from me! Don't touch me!" Lovino shoved Antonio back and nearly knocked Antonio to the ground. He held his head in his hands so as not to see that dreadful lust in the man's dark eyes.

"Lovino… it's me, Antonio. What's wrong? What happened?" Antonio had gained his footing and was trying to approach the frantic teen again.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? I gave you what you wanted so go away!" Lovino shouted, still not looking up. He didn't want the fear. All he wanted was the numbness back. It was the only thing keeping him safe from the memories, from the pain. He desired nothing else.

"Lovi, it's Antonio. Remember? You do remember me, don't you?" Antonio decided not to make another attempt to touch Lovino again lest the latter have another outburst.

"…Antonio?" hazed forest eyes finally met with jade. Even though Lovino had said his name, it didn't seem as if it had completely registered in the Italian's head.

_How can you even speak to him? You betrayed him, _the voice jeered. _Don't talk to him. You are unworthy._

"Yes. It's me. Lovi, what happened?"

At this, Lovino didn't respond as if he hadn't heard the Spaniard at all. Those muddled forest eyes broke eye contact and were unseeing again, focused on what was going on inside their mind. But Lovino was muttering something… something too low and too fast for Antonio to catch.

"Lovi, _mi amor, _what's wrong? What're you saying?" the Spaniard placed his hands atop Lovino's clenched ones. What was going on? Why was Lovino acting like this?

The Italian began murmuring another phrase and Antonio strained his ears to hear.

"What're you saying, Lovinito?"

"_I said don't touch me!" _Lovino ripped his hands away and grabbed at his head again from the images attacking his psyche. He then realized his mistake. He wasn't supposed to fight back. "I'm sorry! Just don't do it again! I can't take it!"

Antonio knelt there, absolutely stupefied but also very concerned for his love.

What had his father done now to spur a reaction like this in Lovino?

Never had he seen the Italian act in such a way no matter how bad his father beat him. His Lovinito had been so strong and sure of himself…

What happened? What made him break?

"Lovino, I need you to talk to me. Please, _querido. _What did your father do to you?" it had to have been his father if the dark blemishes on Lovino's perfect skin were anything to go by.

"I'm dirty… I'm unloved… I'm unwanted…" Lovino whispered in a near frenzied chant.

He wanted it all to go away. He wanted this to be some sort of horrible nightmare that he would wake up from and still be back in the field with gorgeous fireflies dancing around him. That was the only place he was safe. There was no other. He had to get there. But how? How could he escape his father's clutches?

What if there was no escape?

What if he was forced to stay forever?

What if he died there in that basement and would be remembered as nothing but a whore?

Lovino breathed heavily and deeply to calm himself, his face still hidden from Antonio who so desperately wanted to see it. The Spaniard stared at Lovino, not sure what he should do—or what he _could _do. He had to get through and find his sweet little tomato.

"Lovi," Antonio gently ran his fingers through Lovino's dark strands of hair. "Lovi, _querido, _I need you to look at me. Can you do that for me? Please?"

"No… no, I can't. I'm dirty. I'm so dirty. I deserved this. You don't want me. No one wants me," Lovino cringed at Antonio's touch.

"Why would you be dirty?" Antonio asked.

The Italian was now silent, starting to lose himself again.

"Lovino, don't do this to me. I need an answer. What did your father do to you?" Antonio urged, not yet fully aware of the immense pressure he was putting on Lovino's mind. "Please answer me, _querido. _I can't help if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"…alone…" Lovino muttered.

Antonio didn't understand the first part, "What did you say?"

"Go away! Leave me alone!" Lovino scrambled away from the Spaniard and rushed inside his house, slamming the door on Antonio and hopefully the memories haunting him.

Once inside the security of his own home, Lovino leaned against the door and sat down; curling himself back inside the protective shield he was in. He was utterly calm now and no tears dared to flow. Why couldn't he cry? Why was he so… composed? It didn't make sense.

_You deserve this, remember? You allowed it to happen. If you were a real man, you would've fought back and found a way to protect your mother and brother. But no, you decided to let yourself be sold. I hope you're happy with your decision, whore. You deserve punishment._

"I do deserve it…" Lovino nodded to himself. "I deserve it all."


	11. Chapter 10

**Not much to say about this chapter but the fact that it took me only two days to write this. I'm getting faster with updates! I hope I'll have this story finished before school starts! I'm pretty sure I will but you never know. Anyway, fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy ride for a while.**

**Happy reading~**

**Warnings: Language, violence, and (now) sexual references.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

The water flowed down his tanned flesh and toned muscles in thin streams. He washed his body with a small towel, mindful of the purple marks that were specking him like the spots on a Dalmatian. He scrubbed thoroughly in areas free of bruises but covered in dirt—in _impurity. _This may have been his third shower today but he still felt… filthy. He wanted to be clean. He _needed_ to be clean. The fact that he was tainted left a vile taste in his mouth and left his skin crawling.

Lovino rubbed furiously at the invisible grime until he was sure that it was gone. He knew it would come back an hour or two after getting out. It always did. He'd spend hours in the shower if it meant that he would stay clean. He didn't mind in the slightest. The teen ran his fingers through his wet hair and simply let the water massage his scalp. It felt really nice. Water meant cleanliness. Water meant purity.

And he was dirty.

A filthy heathen.

A whore.

_You'll never be clean. Ever. No matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to wash away what you agreed to—and what you enjoyed. Look at you. You're a disgrace to your family. You have no one but an unappreciative brother, a cowardly mother, and a father who can't stand the sight of you._

"Shut up! I'm tired of hearing you talk!" Lovino growled. "Go away!"

_You can't get rid of what's a part of you, Lovino. __**I **__**am **__**you.**__ I am who you really are and it's up to me to help you accept it because you're too damn stubborn to do it on your own._

"No… no… leave me alone…"

_You're so indecisive. You want me here then want me to leave. Make up your fucking mind already. I'm only trying to help you—help us. You're so close to breaking. Why not just stop right now and spare us the trouble? It'll be a hell of a lot easier once you just accept the fact that I'm here to stay._

"Enough! Go!"

The voice diminished into the background but there was still a nagging feeling. It was there. And it would be waiting for just one mild slip up before it attacked him, massacring his sanity with the sharpest blade. Lovino hid his face in his hands and took a deep breath.

Stay calm.

"_Fratello, are you coming out of there anytime soon? Mama says it's time to go to bed now," _Feliciano's voice was muffled from the door and running water.

"Uh… yeah. I'll be out in a second," Lovino replied, turning off the shower. He began to dry himself off, hoping that the dirt was gone now. He inspected himself. For the most part, it was. It would have to do for now. He dressed himself in the oversized white shirt his mother had given him and it flowed around him as a gown would.

The teen limped out of the bathroom and completely missed Feliciano who was standing by the door. The younger of the two reached out to Lovino and grazed his brother's shoulder and the latter nearly jumped ten feet in the air, letting out a startled yelp. He spun on his heel, expecting to see his assaulter and his heart nearly jumped out of his ribcage upon seeing Feliciano.

"_Don't… _do that! You gave me a heart attack!" Lovino was breathing heavily in an attempt to wash out the adrenaline pumping through his system. "You can't… you can't ever sneak up on me like that, Feli, okay?"

"S-Sorry, Lovino. I-I didn't mean to scare you. Honest. I thought you saw me here," Feliciano took a large step away from his brother, mindful of the large personal space Lovino needed.

"I-It's all right, just… never mind. Forget it," Lovino shook his head but stopped short upon hearing his parents' voices.

"Tell the boy he is to sleep in the basement tonight."

Damiano's footsteps were fading to the front door.

"Where are you going?" Felisa asked.

"Taking names—getting numbers. I'm afraid to send the whore out on the streets lest he run off. And there's also the possibility of someone trying to take him to use him for their own desires. He's such a pretty little thing. He could almost pass for a girl with some effort. Can't have that happen, can we? After all, he is your son," Damiano soaked his words in sarcasm and venom.

"…why are you doing this? He's your first-born son! Don't you feel any kind of regret?" Felisa hiccupped, already crying. "He's just a boy and you're destroying him!"

"That is exactly what I want. He is still far too strong. I want him broken—I want him to the point where he won't even want to see the sun rising the next day. I want him on his knees in front of me begging for mercy," Damiano said.

"He's already broken, can't you see that? You allowed him to be raped, Damiano… and I allowed it, too! You've damaged him permanently! He won't ever forget this!" Felisa shouted.

"Then maybe next time he won't defy me and be the good slave he knows how to be."

"He's not a slave! Or a whore! He's a teenage boy! A human being with dreams and a heart!"

"No! He is not! Murderers are not human and therefore must not be treated as such!" Damiano retorted, grabbing Felisa's arm roughly. "You will no longer question my motives, am I understood?"

When Felisa didn't answer, Damiano pulled her close and squeezed her arm tighter, nostrils flaring.

"Do you mind speaking up? I can't hear you, woman!"

"Okay! Okay!" she cried out, wincing at the pain.

Damiano shoved her away then and put his hand on the doorknob, "The boy has another appointment this Thursday at 8:00. Tell him to be ready and he must be clean. I'll be back later tonight or I might not. It depends. I don't know how long it'll take. But from this point on, it'll be Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Make sure you tell him. We don't want another surprise, now do we?"

The man left the house after that, leaving Felisa in stunned silence.

Lovino had already stopped breathing.

Sleep in the basement…?

Another appointment…?

Why?

Why him?

_Because you're a dirty whore and a liar. You mustn't forget: you brought this on yourself, kid. I don't know why that's so hard for you to believe._

"…shut up…" Lovino hissed. "Just shut up…!"

"_Fratello, _who are you talking to?" Feliciano wondered.

"Huh?" Lovino looked at him.

"You were telling someone to shut up. Who were you talking to?" Feliciano was growing more concerned for Lovino with every second of silence his brother was giving him.

"It was no one. Just… talking to myself," Lovino didn't want to meet Feliciano's gaze and made his way down the stairs.

Sighing, Feliciano followed his sibling and stood at the last stair as his mother and brother talked to one another. Felisa was trying to compose herself at the moment and Lovino offered little comfort, seeing as he wasn't even comfortable in his own skin. It was clear that Felisa wanted to wrap her arms around her eldest son but said son still jumped at the sight of his own shadow.

The younger knew it was to be expected. He didn't blame his brother. No one did. No one but his father. His father no longer counted, though. He wouldn't be touching Lovino again. He had to make sure of it. He didn't know how he was going to keep his word but Feliciano would find a way. It was time to pay back old debts.

"Lovino… you have to sleep in the basement tonight," Felisa said for what could possibly be the fifth time but Lovino didn't seem to hear it. Or rather he was refusing to.

"I can't… I can't do it…" Lovino mumbled over and over again.

"Lovino, you have to. If he comes back and sees that you're not down there, it'll mean death for all of us. You know how he gets when he's drunk. Besides, I'm sure it's only for one night. You'll be back in the comfort of your bed before you know it," Felisa then brushed the back of her hand across Lovino's cheek.

_She __**lies!**_

Her son turned away from her touch and denied her any further acts of affection from her.

She sighed inaudibly, "I'm sorry, Lovino. I really am. I wish there was more we could do but as of the moment, there isn't anything."

"It's okay. I'm used to nothing," Lovino sealed himself behind the door leading to the basement and stared at the bottom of stairs. It was upon doing so did he realize what he had gotten himself into.

He swallowed loudly. He just knew he wouldn't be getting any rest tonight. Not if the memories transformed into nightmares. The only difference was that those nightmares had happened. They were real. They wouldn't go away when he woke up. They would be there, lurking and leaving their mark. His bare feet conquered the stairwell one by one, slowly but surely. The bed was now before him and the image of the man looming over him flashed across his vision and he crumpled to his knees.

The teen gaped at the floor instead since it didn't hold any horrid memories other than the sound of the man's heavy shoes hitting the hardwood. He darted back up the steps and lay down on the second stair, not minding that it wasn't most comfortable or cleanest place in the house. Anything was cleaner than the bed where the ashes of his innocence rested. He couldn't possibly bring those back. It was damn near impossible. He could still feel the weight of the man's body next to his exhausted one where the former relaxed for a few moments before exiting.

Lovino closed his distraught forest eyes and fell into a living hell where his life went up in flames.

* * *

A terrified scream that tore the silence in the house startled Feliciano from his sleep and the young Italian immediately recognized the sound of his brother's voice. He jumped out of bed and nearly toppled down the stairs, tearing open the door to the basement upon arriving there. A single misstep left Feliciano tumbling the rest of the way and it would've hurt had not the adrenaline been coursing through him.

Lovino, now in the bed with clean sheets, continued to cry out in fear and was grabbing at his pounding head, ordering the images in his mind to disappear. Feliciano hurried to his brother's side and tried to keep a calm tone to disarm his frightened sibling. It was fleeting, however.

"_Fratello, fratello, _it's okay! You're safe! No one's going to hurt you!"

The older of the two only continued to yell and Feliciano dreaded the outcome if his father happened to be home. He had gone to bed shortly after Lovino did and prayed to God that Damiano would stay out late for a night—maybe two. Just enough to get a handle on the situation.

"_Fratello, _you don't need to be afraid. I'm right here with you," Feliciano's hand merely grazed Lovino's leg and the teen nearly lost it.

"What part of I want to be alone don't you people seem to understand! And stop touching me! I don't want to be touched!" Lovino fled from the room and ran out the front door before collapsing underneath the large tree looming over the house.

He folded back into his protective shell, shivering in the unusually cold night breeze.

Feliciano could only watch his brother go and lowered his head, fighting the tears that wanted to release themselves ever so badly. He wouldn't cry though. He'd been doing too much of that all of his life. He wouldn't shed another tear. With the lamp now turned on, Feliciano noticed the dark red spot staining the sheets again. The red trail led up the stairs and undoubtedly to where Lovino had gone.

_This darkness… does it have a name? Cruelty… hatred… How did it find us? Did it force itself into our lives or did we embrace it? What happened to us? When did we lose our way?_

Those questions were left to hum in Feliciano's mind without an answer. The 12 year old glanced at the clock to his right.

12:47 AM.

That was the time Lovino came home and was…

Feliciano decided to head back to his room seeing as his brother wouldn't be too excited to find him still there. He wanted to help Lovino, he truly did. But the teenager pushed anyone away who tried to help him get through this, including his own thoughts.

Feliciano didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

Outside, Lovino finally noticed the warm, wet feeling on the back of his shirt and his underwear but he paid no attention to it. He knew what it was. He knew what caused it. He didn't need to see it. He hated the color red. It meant wrath and danger. And that's all Lovino was experiencing right now. He seemed to be made up of nothing but those two elements.

Lovino inhaled shakily as dry sobs racked his injured body. He hid his face from the world, humming his new piano composition—the song of his dying heart.

* * *

"Antonio, we need to talk," Emilio abruptly entered his son's room as said teen was inspecting his fading bruises. It brought a smile to the man's face. His son was looking much healthier ever since the tea incident and stopped taking his medication.

"Yes, Dad?" Antonio slipped his shirt back on and waited patiently, standing at full attention.

"Sorry that it's so late but you were still up so… yeah. Well, I've been thinking about the other night—when you asked your mother if she had been putting things in your food. I already talked to her about it and she acted as stubborn as ever, saying that she didn't know why you would say something like that. I've heard her side. Now I want to hear yours," Emilio closed the bedroom door and leaned against it with arms folded over his strong chest.

Antonio stared at the other for a moment as he had never seen his father's electrifying blue eyes with such a determined spark in them. The man was so laid back and carefree most of the time. What had changed so? What did his mother tell him to provoke such a curious reaction? Antonio sat on his bed and smoothed out a random area of his blanket, gathering his thoughts to tell his father what he had witnessed.

"She's been poisoning me," Antonio said. "She's overdosing my medication. I saw her with my own eyes. That's why I didn't drink the tea. She crushed three pills into powder and put it in the drink even though I had already taken the medication an hour ago. She's also adding like household cleaners to my food at dinner and breakfast. I saw her do this, too. It was acetone."

Emilio was silent and hung on each word as his son continued his explanation. The surprise had been reborn in Antonio's eyes as if he was witnessing it again. It broke Emilio's heart to say the least. When the teen was done, he became concerned as his father remained quiet with a look of deep thought and hints of disbelief.

"And you're sure about this?" Emilio asked after a long while.

"I wouldn't make something like this up, Dad. Lovino told me about a mental illness of some kind where people do this to themselves or their kids to get attention. I'm not sure if that's what Mom has but I'm pretty sure it is. I can't remember the name of it for the life of me. Mun… Munchau-something," Antonio replied.

"Munchausen by Proxy Syndrome," Emilio finished.

"That's it! That's the one Lovino was talking about! He said that it—wait, how did you know what it was called? Lovino told me many people don't."

"Adelita's grandmother had the same thing. That's why your grandfather on your mom's side was so sick before he died. Whatever his mother did to him had long-lasting effects on his body," Emilio's sapphire eyes grew sorrowful upon remembering the man. "He was like a father to me and you remind me so much of him. The only reason he survived as long as he did because he fought his mother—just as you are. We'll get some help for your mother but in the meantime, I'll be cooking from now on. She won't touch your food again."

Outside, Adelita pushed away from the door. Need help? She didn't _need_ help! How dare they accuse her of having a psychiatric illness! What did they know? They weren't practicing to be a nurse! They understood nothing! A low growl rumbled in her throat. She would have to make preparations sooner than she expected and disappeared down the stairs. They would get what was coming to them.

With that, Emilio tossed his son a soft smile and left. Antonio watched the door for a moment as if his father was going to come back. When he was sure that his parents were in bed for the night, Antonio grabbed his guitar and climbed out his bedroom window and onto the wooden ledge. He made the 20 foot jump for what could've been the umpteenth time he's lived in that house. The bushes scraped him a bit when he hit the ground but it was a solid landing nonetheless.

"Ouch. That hurt more than I thought it would," Antonio mumbled while studying his minor cuts.

Nearby, Lovino let out a startled cry at the noise. Had the man come back? He had to get away! The teen tried to move but his body was frozen with fear and he sat there, wide-eyed and breathing heavily.

_Please don't find me, _Lovino thought. _Please don't find me._

His heart pounded in rhythm with the sound of footsteps crunching in the grass and he desperately tried to control his heavy breathing. It stopped abruptly and soft music filling the night soon replaced it. Lovino immediately recognized the instrument as the guitar and a familiar angelic voice accompanied it.

Curious, Lovino peeked around the large tree to see who it was and he sighed in relief. It was only Antonio. Seeing the Spaniard brought him a drop of reassurance to try and cleanse murky puddle of anxiety. He listened as Antonio played a few random notes and sang some words in Spanish. He tuned the guitar and ran his fingers across the strings.

Perfection.

"_Cuando el tiempo pasa_

_Y nos hacemos viejos_

_Nos empieza a parecer_

_Que pesan más los daños_

_Que los mismos años_

_Al final."_

Even though Lovino hadn't a clue what was being said, the song had a nice, sweet air to it and that's what ultimately drew him in. He was now facing Antonio completely but still remained behind the tree, worried that the Spaniard would discover him and try to approach him like he did this afternoon.

"_Por eso yo quiero que mis años pasen_

_Junto a ti mi amor eterno_

_Junto a mi familia junto a mis amigos y mi voz._

_Porque nada valgo_

_Porque nada tengo si no tengo lo mejor_

_Tu amor y compañía en mi corazón."_

Lovino was standing at this point, utterly absorbed by the music. It was like he didn't have any control over his body, like his actions weren't his own.

"_Y es que vale más_

_Un año tardío que un siglo vacio amor_

_Y es que vale más_

_Tener bien llenito el corazón_

_Por eso yo quiero que en mi mente siempre_

_Tu cariño este bien fuerte_

_Aunque estemos lejos o aunque estemos cerca del final."_

Despite his mind's objections, Lovino's heart wanted to get closer and hear more and maybe try to understand what was being said in the foreign language. He took a hesitant step away from the tree, his foot landing softly in the grass and Antonio's playing remained uninterrupted. Another step. And this time, Antonio heard it and his singing and playing stopped. Lovino tried to hide back behind the tree before the Spaniard spotted him but to no avail.

Antonio smiled at Lovino's uncharacteristic but understandable wariness and strummed his guitar and started singing as an attempt to draw the Italian out again.

"_Porque nada valgo_

_Porque nada tengo si no tengo lo mejor_

_Tu amor y compañía en mi corazón."_

Lovino poked his head out again to check if the other was looking at him. He ducked away when Antonio was indeed watching him but relaxed when he saw that gorgeous smile. It made his heart thrum against his chest excitedly. He liked that feeling. It felt so… _right._

"Come on over," Antonio motioned at the spot next to him, keeping his grin. "I don't bite. I promise. You can trust me."

The Italian was silent and remained hesitant, glancing back and forth between Antonio and the ground. What if that man was still prowling around, seeking to devour him again? What if Antonio was lying?

"You can trust me, Lovino. I won't hurt you," Antonio held his hand out. If he managed to coax the Italian out of his hiding spot then that was enough for Antonio. No interrogation tonight. He didn't want to run his lover off again. That mistake was not worth making twice.

Lovino shuffled forward, inch by inch, head down but his eyes darted everywhere for even the slightest flutter in any direction.

"That's it. You're doing great," Antonio coached happily.

_Don't take another step. Remember what you did to him?_

Lovino halted mid-step and took one back, not sure whether to listen to the voice in his head or the cheerful one coming from the Spaniard before him. It didn't take long for him to make a decision. The Italian stopped a few feet away from Antonio and planted his feet there, intending to go no further.

"How are you doing, Lovino?" the Spaniard asked.

Lovino couldn't find his voice and stayed quiet but shrugged lightly instead. He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling exposed by being out in the open like this. He was susceptible to so many dangers at night. He decided to push that thought of his head and sat down in the grass again.

Antonio nodded, not exactly happy with the fact that his lover had been reduced to silence by his father but it was suffice. It was a calm reaction contrast to the violent one he had received.

"Did you like the song?" he wondered.

Lovino seemed to think about it for a moment until he gave a simple nod.

"That makes me so happy. I wrote it for you, you know," Antonio began playing random notes again.

Lovino inhaled sharply from surprise and stared at the ground again with red cheeks. The song… was written for him? His heart went from a steady beating drum to an excited rhythm in an instant.

"Would you like to hear the rest of the song? It's not exactly finished but I can play what I do have," Antonio offered.

The Italian nodded slowly and the moon's incandescent glow made the color in Lovino's cheeks visible to Antonio and the latter laughed lightly.

"All right, Lovi. You got it," Antonio smiled and began playing again, this time at a faster pace. He kept his voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping neighborhood.

"_Ven amor_

_Me siento débil cuando estoy sin ti_

_Y me hago fuerte cuando estas aquí_

_Sin ti yo ya no sé que es vivir_

_Mi vida es un túnel sin tu luz_

_Quiero pasar más tiempo junto a ti_

_Recuperar las noches que perdí_

_Vencer el miedo inmenso de morir_

_Y ser eterno junto a ti."_

Lovino listened intently, focusing solely on the Spaniard's rich voice and the strumming of the guitar. For that moment, Lovino forgot about everything: his father and the whole situation he was in entirely. It was just him and Antonio here at the moment. No one else mattered at all. The Italian closed his eyes, immediately seeing the floating orbs of fireflies dancing across his vision and a smile played at his lips.

Antonio studied Lovino's expression and he grinned.

Maybe he hadn't gotten through Lovino entirely but this was a wonderful start. The fact that the Italian was even sitting here before him was a miracle. When Lovino ordered him to leave, he thought it was for good and it tore him to pieces. But Antonio was persistent.

He _would _find out what happened to his little tomato.

He didn't care how long it took.

Antonio Carriedo would not be giving up any time soon—or ever, for that matter.


	12. Chapter 11

**Crappy chapter is crappy. Sorry guys. But hey, every story has got to have it's fillers, right? /shot. Don't worry, we'll be getting back into the action soon. I'm leaving little hints every now and then so we'll get back to those. It's understandable if you don't enjoy this chapter as much as others. Maybe the ending will patch things up. Who knows. Oh and those who were wondering what song Antonio was singing in the last chapter it's called "Nada Valgo Sin Tu Amor" by Juanes. It's a beautiful song and it fit those two so perfectly~**

**Happy reading~**

**WARNINGS: Language, violence, AND sexual references/themes**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Antonio strummed the last notes and it hung in the air, flitting away softly in the breeze. Lovino managed to catch some and place them in his heart to hold onto for later. When he was retreating into the darkness again, the Italian would be able to remind himself that he wasn't alone, that there was someone with him always even if said person wasn't there in reality. It was a silver lining.

Antonio smiled softly as Lovino began to hum the song quietly. Even though the Italian hadn't said so verbally, he could tell the shorter teen was happy at this moment. And if Lovino was happy then Antonio was happy, too. His lover had been through so much in a life of only 14 years. Why did it have to be filled with pain and hatred? Lovino didn't deserve that. He deserved to have a reason to smile every day of his life.

And how gorgeous that smile was when it revealed itself. It was small and only there for a short period of time so Antonio had little time to cherish it but cherish it he did. Lovino looked so handsome when he smiled. It made his eyes sparkle and cheeks a canvas of crimson.

He wanted Lovino to smile right now.

"_Fratello," _a new voice was carried along the breeze and both teens' heads snapped to the source.

Feliciano, who had a slight limp to in his step, was leaning on the tree and a terrified look was dimming his normally bright golden eyes. He took a moment to catch his breath, panting as if he had just ran a marathon.

"P-Papa's on his way home, Lovino…! He just called Mama and said he was d-down the street…! You… you n-need to get inside right now…!" the younger swallowed dryly.

Lovino's eyes widened and spared one last glance at Antonio before taking off back inside his house with Feliciano close behind, leaving Antonio with only the moon to keep him company. The Spaniard placed his guitar in the grass and sighed.

Yet another moment shattered by that monster. Every day and night before this whole ordeal, they had to sneak around; reducing themselves to secret areas and spoke in whispers with the fear that Lovino's father had someone watching their every move. And it may as well have been true. They could feel eyes on them everywhere they went and whether it was true or not was a moot point.

Bright headlights filled his vision and Antonio shielded his eyes from it as the vehicle pulled into Lovino's driveway. Once his vision cleared, Antonio watched Damiano climb out of the vehicle and fumble with the keys to lock the car. Antonio caught sight of a small notepad in the man's hand and he squint his eyes to try and read the words despite the large distance. It was then that the two made eye contact and immediate tension built up between them.

Antonio nearly stopped breathing for the eyes he was looking at were exactly like Lovino's—forest green that glows a radiant emerald in any light source. Lovino's eyes were exquisite and harbored flecks of amber, stealing his heart the very moment Antonio made eye contact.

Damiano's were haunting and cruel, containing only darkness in their depths.

Eyes of different hues continued to glare each other down, not intending to break.

"_I'm watching you, kid," _Damiano's gaze warned before it narrowed.

Antonio sent the same silent threat and tension was cut with a butter knife as the man went inside his home. Antonio sighed and plopped back in the grass. What was that notepad in Damiano's hand? There were obviously words scribbled on it. He knew it had a purpose. Every move that was made had a reason and it was always to bring Lovino anguish.

The teen felt his temper begin to flare again and he stared at the moon in an effort to calm himself. She gave off the illusion of consistency, the moon. She was constantly changing faces and revolving around the Earth. It reminded Antonio that nothing lasted forever. Like the moon, Antonio's and Lovino's relationship was constantly changing—a never ending rollercoaster.

Antonio was going to defy those odds.

He would never let Lovino go unless told to do so by said Italian.

And until that day came, Antonio would never leave.

"Antonio, what the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night? You have school, remember that? You're not going to want to get up in the morning when we tell you to."

The sound of his father's voice made the teen jump and he laughed nervously, "Nothing, Dad. Just out here thinking. I couldn't sleep."

"That's fine. Just get back inside before your mother has a cow," Emilio sighed.

It was very obvious the two had been arguing about something, most likely about him. Thinking nothing of it, Antonio picked up his guitar and trekked back inside his house, catching these few words from Lovino's house due to an open window. And the voice was sickeningly familiar.

"_I've got more names you, whore."_

* * *

Lovino lay on the bed, curled up into himself. It was 6:50 PM Thursday night. In about an hour, another man would be walking through that door seeking out a good 30 or 45 minute thrill and then toss him aside like he was garbage, the only "redeeming" token being euros left on the bedside table. But based on his past, he should be used to that. He should be used to this kind of treatment. It was all he had ever known. Yes, he knew of love and kindness. But he knew of hatred and pain more. You might be able to consider them close friends if the relationship wasn't so… parasitic.

He missed true friendship.

He missed Elizabeta, Bella, and Lili. _They _were his friends. They were people he could really trust. There was no one else in the world like them and he wouldn't trade them for anything. Sure, they were girls and talked about nonsense but that was fine with him. He knew how they acted and could read their moods like an open book. He loved the stability of it all after being thrown into chaos. They didn't mind his attitude and sometimes pessimistic outlook on life. They didn't mind his foul language or his temper. They understood that those elements were a part of him and it wouldn't be changing.

Now that was gone.

All of it… gone.

And Antonio…

His love.

His _amore._

Even though they were next door to one another, it felt as if they were miles apart—untouchable. Lovino wanted to be close again to the Spaniard but the fear… the fear was overwhelming. He was afraid that it was all some sort of dream and that Antonio wasn't real. That's why he hadn't spoken the entire time they were outside. He was afraid if he did… he would have a total mental breakdown. Lovino had to hold on to that last bit of strength for the next unexpected event. That man had robbed him of everything else. He didn't know the guy's name and he didn't need to. All he knew was that his dignity was murdered because of that drunk.

Lovino felt the anger broil in his stomach, stewing up hatred so nasty that most wouldn't dare come near him. The teen buried his face in the pillow, wanting to scream at the top of his lungs in it. Tonight, the same crime would be committed but by a different man—or woman. He didn't know and he didn't care to. All he knew was that he would be exploited to relieve someone else's sexual frustration.

_And your own, as well. Don't deny it. You're just as frustrated and deprived as they are. You're at that stage in life. It's normal._

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Lovino grumbled.

_You're too damn stubborn for your own good, kid._

"Go away."

_So be it. But one of these days, you'll realize you'll enjoy my company because no one else will want to be around your ass. Just wait. You'll be on your knees to me before this is through._

It diminished into the recesses of his mind and Lovino no longer felt the light buzz of its presence as he usually did when it quieted. Was it really gone for good?

He couldn't say for certain…

"Good riddance," the teen said, closing his eyes. He might actually be able to get some sleep tonight—excluding the pain, that is.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, Lovino had fallen asleep in the dim light of the room, not caring what kind of trouble he might get in if Damiano caught him. He was tired and he was going to sleep.

It wasn't long until a gentle hand brushed his face, over his bruise, ultimately startling the teen from his sleep. He stared wide eyed at the newcomer, trying to focus his vision so he could see who it was. A man no doubt, guessing by their broad shoulders and sharp jaw line. He had bright tawny eyes and sandy blonde hair with a fair complexion and looked to be no older than 20, nothing like the first man's dark eyes and dark hair and middle aged appearance.

He was Client #2.

Lovino pulled away from his touch and pushed himself up against the headboard, drawing his knees up to his chest and locking his arms around them tightly. The man seemed puzzled at first and sat on the edge of the bed, staring into Lovino's eyes like a curious newborn infant. He then reached out his hand slowly for the teen's neck and Lovino cringed at the contact waiting to come. The younger let out a silent gasp at the man's cool touch along the crook of his neck.

"You're hurt," he said, referring to the dark finger blemishes marking Lovino's neck.

Lovino didn't answer but a small whimper escaped his lips, his dread burgeoning with every second. And like a weed it began to choke him relentlessly to where hardly even a thought could be formed. His fingers moved from his neck to sweep back Lovino's hair framing his face and reveal the dark bruise. The gentleness was surprising but the man still had the same dark intentions as the others regardless of his current actions.

"I can only assume this was from the first one, yes?" the bright eyed man asked.

The teen was quiet.

He smiled, "Your silence tells me this is so."

Lovino turned his head away and stared at something other than the man before him.

"I promise I'll be gentle."

Lovino closed his eyes and he tried to dive into the numbness before it was too late. The man placed soft kisses along his jaw line and Lovino had no choice to allow him even though each time lips connected with his skin it felt as if toxins were left to burn there. He wanted to push the man away.

He wanted…

He wanted…

…freedom.

And love.

To be loved by no one other than the Spaniard next door.

Was it too much to ask?

Yes.

It was.

By this point, Lovino was beginning to panic. The darkness, the numbness… it wasn't taking over like it before. It didn't swallow him up and make him forget. Everything—every touch, bite, and kiss—was _real. _He didn't understand! Why? Why wasn't it taking him?

_Like I said: you need me, kid, _the voice chuckled.

It wasn't long until his body was on fire again and splitting in two and the teen let out a strangled cry.

_Just make it go away, _Lovino begged inside his head. _Make it go away!_

_If you had listened to me before, you wouldn't be going through this. If you had gotten rid of all your emotions beforehand, you wouldn't even be feeling this pain. But giving up means giving up on Antonio. Oh who am I kidding? You've already betrayed the poor soul so what's the harm in cutting ties with him? So what's it gonna be, kid? Forget all your pain or Antonio?_

_Your choice._

* * *

"Toni, have you seen Lovino? He's missed almost another week of school. The teachers haven't said anything and I'm getting worried—far more than worried. Do you know what's going on? His dad didn't do anything to him, did he? Please say no!" Bella questioned, her eyes becoming wide with fear.

The duo was waiting outside the school for Elizabeta who had gone to get Lili from class Friday afternoon. The crowd swerved around them, chattering excitedly about plans for the weekend and some party that was being thrown because so-and-so's parents were away on vacation. A typical teenage plan that was doomed for failure.

Antonio didn't quite know how to answer the girl. She had been freaking out since Lovino had missed his first day of school and Elizabeta had been attempting to calm her down. It hadn't been going well.

"I… I can't say I know for sure what's going on, Bella. I saw him two nights ago but he didn't speak to me. He didn't even want to get near me. There were bruises all over him but he wouldn't tell me where they're from. He just kept saying that he was dirty and unloved and unwanted," Antonio placed his hands on the girl's shoulders to offer some comfort.

"What could that heartless bastard have done now to cause Lovino to react in such a way? Sure, Lovino's been beat up before but he's always acted normal the next day—like it never even happened. Antonio, you live next door to him. You see him more than we do. Please ask him why he's not coming to school and what's going on. We're going to die young from worrying so much," Elizabeta approached with Lili, already having heard enough of the conversation.

"Lizzie, don't you think I already tried that?" Antonio sighed. "I asked him what was going on. He just told me to leave him alone and ran off. I can't keep doing that to him and I don't expect him to play 20 Questions either. I can't even get near him without him freaking out. Whatever is going on is going to take serious time to overcome. I won't guarantee an answer for you on Monday but I'll try my best."

"Thanks, Toni. You're the best," Bella smiled.

The Spaniard nodded and waved them off, heading in the direction towards his house. Antonio had been thinking about Lovino all day, fretting and mustering up the most dreadful of outcomes. It was driving him crazy, almost. What had been done to break the strong-willed Italian? It had to have been something horrible—something mind-numbing. What was it though?

"I'm going to give myself a headache if I keep this up…" Antonio pinched the bridge of his nose and looked around, surprised to find himself down the street from his house.

He had been so deep in thought he hadn't even noticed where he was going.

He sighed.

_Don't ask Lovino any questions. That'll just make him mad again, _Antonio thought.

The Spaniard stopped in front of Lovino's house, figuring that it wouldn't be a good idea to knock on the door and see how Lovino was doing if Damiano should be home. It was eerily silent in the neighborhood and Antonio didn't appreciate the current knot in his stomach. The teen continued on reluctantly and entered his home, placing his school bag down.

"Hey, son. How was school?" Emilio, who was lounging on the couch, asked without opening his eyes.

"It was… good," Antonio sat down on the adjacent sofa.

"What's with the hesitation?" his father wondered.

"No reason—just ready for the weekend."

"Aren't we all?"

"True. Where did Mom go? Her car wasn't in the driveway," Antonio looked around as if he expected his mother to appear out of thin air.

"She said she was tired of being cooped up in this house all day. I wasn't going to fight her on it. She's irritable enough as it is. Arguing would've just given her another reason to leave," Emilio rested his arm over his eyes, sighing exasperatedly.

Antonio nodded.

"Son, do you know what's going on next door at that Lovino kid's house? I heard quite a bit of yelling last night. I didn't want to get involved since I don't know them well at all but I figured you would since you see Lovino all the time. So do you know?" Emilio wondered, now looking at the boy.

"Um… not really," Antonio said, scratching the back of his head. "From what I understand, his parents are going through marital issues right now and Lovino and his dad don't exactly get along well. It's complicated. Lovino doesn't talk much about his family life and I don't really ask… I try not to pry."

"Really? That's a shame. I hope everything is okay over there," Emilio sat up and smiled at the idea that popped into his head. "Why don't you invite him over for dinner sometime? I'm sure that'll be a nice escape from all the chaos over there."

"He has a little brother and he doesn't really like to leave him alone there," Antonio replied.

"Lovino is more than welcome to bring him along," his father stood up and stretched. "Let me know what he says when you ask him."

The teen remained uncertain, "Okay, Dad."

"All right, cool. Well, I'm going to see what we have to make for dinner. You know your mother likes to start early. Stubborn woman," Emilio mumbled the last part as he headed for the kitchen.

"Dad?" Antonio called out to him before the man reached the other room.

"Yeah?"

"Did you… did you find help for Mom?"

Emilio's smile was soft as he strolled back over to his son and placed a hand atop Antonio's head, "Don't worry about it, okay? This'll be behind us before you know it. But to answer your question, yes, I found a place where she could get help. I don't know when I'll be able to get her in but know that I'm doing my best to. We're going to help her get better, all right?"

Antonio nodded again, "Thanks, Dad. Not just for helping but… for believing me. I didn't think you would."

"You're my son. Why wouldn't I believe you?"

"I mean, didn't it sound far-fetched? I told you that my own mother was poisoning me. It's not exactly what a kid would tell their parent every day," Antonio shrugged.

"Well, any parent worth their salt would believe their child and look into it. At least that's what I believe. My parents were absent most of my life and that's why I made a promise the moment you were born that I would do everything in my power to protect you no matter the odds or who it was against," Emilio's eyes showed a bright spark Antonio had never seen before.

With that answer, the teen respected his father more than ever.

"Do you have homework?"

"No, not this weekend."

"Good. Well you're free to do as you please. Go hang out with Lovino or something," he finally disappeared into the kitchen.

_You make it sound so easy, Dad, _Antonio shuffled up the stairs to his bedroom. _Yeah, I'll hang out with Lovino… at two in the morning again._

With his back turned, he failed to notice the pair of gem-like serpent eyes scrutinizing him and their owner coiled back, poised to strike with utmost precision using the strongest venom.

* * *

Divested of any hope of sleep by the nightmares, Lovino found himself outside again, waiting for something—or someone—who probably wouldn't even be making an appearance tonight. But he was oddly okay with that. He enjoyed solitude every now and then. He wore a blank expression on his face as he sat down in the cool grass underneath the tree's protective perches.

The night breeze ruffled his hair and tickled the nape of his neck where some bruises lay. He was still in a bit of pain but nothing like before. Whether he getting accustomed to this new and mortifying lifestyle was something he would not rather think about at the moment. His father had a good laugh by watching him stumble around the house while completing his chores, relishing in every wince or minor slip that would soon turn major.

He thought the beatings were bad.

But this…

This was something he simply could not handle!

His father had brought in pages full of names and numbers of those who were dying to get their thrill with a boy of only 14 since they couldn't seem to find it with anyone else. Resorting to such a thing made him sick. And to think he was taking part in it...

Lovino, fighting back the ache reverberating throughout his body, Lovino pulled his legs up to his chest and crawled back into his protective shell, hiding his face. He wanted to cry. He wanted to finally let it all go. Why couldn't he, though? Why was it so hard?

There was something missing…

…something important.

"Lovino."

Said Italian's head whipped to the voice and he let out an audible sigh of relief to see that it was Antonio. The Spaniard threw the latter an impish grin, laughing quietly.

"Sorry I'm late. I hope I didn't worry you. My mom and dad were arguing again so things are hectic at my house right now," Antonio sat down next to Lovino and stared at the moon. "You weren't worried, were you?"

When he didn't receive an answer, Antonio turned to look at his lover and his eyebrows rose in surprise at the sight of Lovino's lower lip beginning to tremble subtly. He was now facing Lovino fully, emanating concern with his emerald eyes.

"What's wrong, Lovi? Are you okay?"

The dam broke.

Lovino suddenly grabbed onto Antonio and hid his face in the crook of the latter's neck while fisting Antonio's shirt in his hand. Antonio was about to question the abrupt contact but was rendered speechless upon feeling warm tears hitting his skin and the trembling of the Italian's body. Antonio held onto the shorter teen, running his fingers through dark locks and whispering comforting words into his ear.

Lovino cried silently, releasing all of his emotions at once.

And to be honest, it felt good.

That one missing piece was here to catch him crumbling just as his mind, body and heart were.


	13. Chapter 12

**What is up with me and making shit hit the fan? I must like the way it smells.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**WARNINGS: Language, violence AND sexual references/themes**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

The duo stayed like that for a while, Lovino crying while Antonio held him close. His little tomato had been crying for so long now… these must have been the tears he'd held for most of life, too afraid to shed even one of them in fear of being beaten for each and every single one that hit the floor. Lovino needed this—this release. It wasn't healthy to keep these emotions cooped up for so long with no way to escape.

That had been a part of Damiano's plan all along, Antonio realized with as little information he had been given regarding Lovino's life. His intentions were not only to break Lovino physically but mentally as well. And though he hated to admit it, the plan was working all too well in Damiano's favor. Antonio sighed. What was he to do? What _could _he do? He felt so powerless. This must've been how Lovino felt every day of his life and facing the challenges thrown at him.

He should've called the police a long time ago—

The Spaniard then remembered a conversation he had with Feliciano at school one day when Lovino hadn't shown up due to his cold.

. . .

"_Feliciano," Antonio gently pulled the young Italian away from the crowd and to a place where they would have a little more privacy. "I need to talk to you."_

"_You scared me, Antonio. I thought you might've been someone else then Ludwig would've not been too happy," Feliciano laughed nervously. "So what's on your mind?"_

"_It's about Lovino. I know it's not any of my business but… I see the results of what your dad does to him and I can't help but wonder why something hasn't been done about it. Why haven't the police been called?" Antonio stared at the ground, clenching and unclenching his fists—just trying to find a way to release his pent up anger._

"_Lovino's life is a delicate balance," Feliciano began sadly. "And in order to be a part of his life, you need to understand that balance. One little slip and it'll all come crashing down. You have every right to be confused, Antonio. I didn't understand it myself for a while, to be honest. But you can't call the police."_

"_Why not?" Antonio nearly demanded. "Your brother will die if we don't do something!"_

"_He'll die if we do something!" Feliciano retorted, effectively silencing the Spaniard. "If the police show up at our door and ask about anything concerning Lovino's abuse, you will never see my brother again! I can guarantee it!"_

_Antonio stood there, absolutely thunderstruck._

"_Father is not a man to be trifled with. He is quick to anger and slow to love. He shows no mercy when it comes to my brother. We've tried to d—" Feliciano's voice broke and he swallowed thickly before continuing, "to defend him… _I've _tried to defend him. Lovino was in the hospital for two weeks because of it."_

_Antonio could only listen on._

"_Lovino was in such bad shape: eight broken ribs, a broken arm, sprained ankle, two black eyes, and a concussion. And he still missed more than three weeks of school. I haven't forgiven myself yet. It's hard to when you were the cause of it. But do you understand what I'm trying to say? Call the police and Lovino will be doomed. My father already considers him dead. Please don't make that consideration a reality," Feliciano's eyes were as soft as golden honey and glistened with moisture._

"_Don't you have any other relatives to stay with? Why haven't you tried getting out of there?"_

"_We have nowhere to go and without my father, there would be no one to support us financially. Our family is spread out all across the world and without money; we'd never be able to pay for a plane ride up there. The closest person to us is our grandfather," Feliciano replied._

"_So why don't you all go over there? I mean, while your father's gone, just go. You've got nothing else to lose!"_

"_He doesn't want us coming around. Not once has he come by and visited us since we were born. The only reason we know about him is because we've seen pictures of him with our mom when she was a little girl. We've asked why we can't visit or why he doesn't but the all we were told is that he is a very busy man," Feliciano shrugged. "It was only when Lovino and I overheard an argument between our parents that we found out he doesn't want to see us. He's angry at my mother for getting pregnant with my brother at a young age. She was 16 years old."_

"_That's not any reason to push you guys away," Antonio said._

"_You are more than welcome to explain that to him. And until you do, we're stuck. I appreciate the help you're offering, Antonio, but it's best if you don't get involved. Lovino wouldn't like that too much. He doesn't want you getting hurt," Feliciano gave a small but pained smile._

_The silence that settled between the two was uneasy yet Antonio's head was buzzing with the information he just received. The love of his life was in trouble and there was nothing that could be done without causing permanent damage. Antonio had never wished ill will on any soul but Damiano didn't count. The man had no soul._

"_Be there for him, okay? He needs you more than he needs us," Feliciano requested before leaving._

_. _. .

Lovino's grip on Antonio's shirt had loosened considerably and already broke ranks into the fabric. But the Italian teen had calmed and his tears had been reduced to soft sniffles and the occasional sob. Lovino was a bit embarrassed of his actions to say the least. He didn't know what came over him. When Antonio had approached, the empty space in his heart—the missing piece—had been filled. What came next Lovino had no control over.

Antonio took this time to inspect the stains on Lovino's body. The bruises were light and small but still dark enough to mar skin. The markings trailed up to the Italian's neck where fingermarks were left and other tiny blemishes accompanied it. Upon looking closer, Antonio could see what he assumed were bite marks.

What in the hell was going on here!

"Lovi, I need to ask you something," Antonio's voice, although firm, still carried on gently.

The Italian stiffed before the question was even asked. He remained quiet, already having an idea of what Antonio wanted to ask but waited to hear it anyway. He wanted to confirm his suspicion.

"What is going on? You're not showing up at school and you haven't talked to me for over a week. You're terrified and want to be alone yet I know you don't want to be. The bruises you have now are not what I'm used to seeing. Please, explain it to me. The girls and I are worried sick about you," Antonio said, his steely voice shifting something akin to desperation.

He was met with silence. Antonio, taking a leap of faith, took Lovino's face in his hands and the two made eye contact. The fear was evident in the latter's eyes and forest green broke away from jade.

"Don't do this to me again, Lovi. I'm going to go insane worrying about you the way I am. We promised to tell each other everything, remember? You won't be judged, Lovinito. I'll love you. You can tell me what's going on and I'll love you the same no matter what! So just please… tell me…"

The Italian seemed to be having troubling corralling his words for it looked like he was about to speak but then his voice died away into silence again. Lovino took in shaky breaths to calm his erratic heart. How was he going to explain it to Antonio? How could he?

Their relationship was ruined the same night it had grown stronger. He was dirty. He was unloved. He was unwanted. How could someone be so persistent to try and change what fate already had planned out? He didn't understand Antonio sometimes. The Spaniard was an idiot—that much was true, and acted purely on his emotions.

_I'm the same way, _Lovino thought.

After another agonizing moment of silence, forest green met with jade once again.

_Just tell him, Lovino. Just tell him._

"…I… can't…" the Italian murmured.

"Please, Lovi. I'm begging you," Antonio whispered. "Tell me, _mi amor."_

"…I can't… I'm… unworthy…" Lovino continued in his broken whisper.

"Unworthy? Lovino, you're not. I love you."

_He __**lies!**_

"You _won't_ love me anymore so stop saying that you will! You can quit pretending!" Lovino fisted Antonio's shirt in his hands again, his voice a low shout so as not to disturb the peaceful neighborhood. "Stop saying that you care because I know that you won't! I was raped, all right? Came home and my father let this guy have his way with me!"

"Lovi—" Antonio began, trying to rationalize with the teen and cope with the news he had been given. He had to remain calm for the distraught Lovino. He had to be the rock—the foundation.

"No! Just stop! I can't take it anymore! I betrayed you, Antonio! I know you hate me! I hate myself for this!" Lovino closed his eyes and moved his hands over Antonio's warm ones, the memories leaving his mind a hemorrhaging mess and vision blurry with tears.

"My own father sold me off to be a whore and I did nothing to stop it!"

"Lovino Vargas, you listen to me right now," Antonio's voice was soothing yet firm to provide the Italian the comfort and security needed. "Look at me. You have to look at me."

Olive eyes did as asked of them and fought the urge to wander again.

"Your father threatened Feliciano and your mother, didn't he?" Antonio said and continued when he received Lovino's nod. "You are the strongest person I have ever met, Lovino. You sacrifice so much for those you care for and I admire you for that. I told you that I would love you no matter what challenges we face. And I'm not going to go back on what I say."

Lovino sniffled again and his heart thundered in his chest. Not from fear but from something different—something he hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity.

"I love you, Lovino Vargas. I always will. I'm here for you until the very end. I will never leave unless you ask me to do so."

It was at that moment Lovino decided this was the one who he'd spend the rest of his life with. Was he young? Yes. Was this decision foolish in the eyes of others? Yes, of course. Lovino found that he didn't care anymore. Antonio Carriedo, the lovable, cheerful and sometimes idiotic Spaniard, was who he had been searching for his entire life.

The Missing Piece.

"_Ti amo troppo…"_

Antonio leaned forward and broke the barrier by placing a feathery kiss on Lovino's forehead, causing said Italian to blush lightly. The taller of the two smiled and wiped away the gathering tears brimming Lovino's eyes with his thumbs. Antonio had never seen Lovino look so vulnerable before. The Italian, even after fully gaining Antonio's trust, stayed within reach of his protective shell, ready to jump back in should he ever be hurt. Now that the shell had been shattered, Lovino was desperate to find some sort of security and had been failing in this endeavor.

But Antonio…

Antonio was that new security.

And he dreaded the very thought of losing him.

"I told Feliciano that I wouldn't get involved but this… this is going too far. We've got to get you three out of there and someplace safe, like your grandparents' or something."

"Antonio, we'd never make it on our own. Our grandpa wants nothing to do with us. I'm sure Feliciano's already told you."

"Well it's better than that hell you're living in! I'm going to talk to my dad and see about getting you three plane tickets to where relatives who do care about you are at," Antonio stood then. "I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help out. But I'm going to have to tell him everything."

"No! Antonio, my father will kill us if we leave! We can't just waltz out the door!" Lovino grabbed the Spaniard's wrist, his eyes wide and pleading.

"Lovino, listen, I'm not going to let him hurt you anymore. I love you too much to sit by any longer! I've got to do something!"

"No, Antonio! You don't understand—we never know when he's coming home. He hardly ever calls ahead."

"That'll be the tricky part. Look, when your dad goes off on one of his little errands again, we'll high tail it out of here. He'll never see you leave," Antonio explained.

"But what about you, Antonio? I'm not going anywhere without you!" Lovino protested with eyes harder than green ice.

"Lovi—"

"No, I'm not leaving you here with him. Wherever you go, I go."

"But what about my dad? I can't just leave him and he won't go anywhere without my mom. I know she's gone completely nuts but he still loves her."

"Then I'm not going anywhere."

Antonio's eyebrow twitched slightly in frustration, "Lovino, quit being so stubborn. I'm going to talk to my dad and see about getting us plane tickets. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help you guys out."

He knew the Italian was stubborn but this was just ridiculous! He was glad Lovino was finally talking though. It had been way too quiet in his life without hearing that voice.

"You'd better get yourselves plane tickets, too. I'll be extremely pissed off to find out that you didn't!"

"_Si, _I know," Antonio nodded, leaning over and kissing Lovino's forehead again. "Just wait for me, okay? Meet me here every night if you can. If you can't then I know your father's home. Tell your mom and Feliciano about this."

The Italian just nodded and tried standing but sat down once the pain shot up his spine again. He gritted his teeth in concentration and breathed heavily to muster up the endurance necessary. Antonio was down by his lover's side, his brow creased in worry.

"Lovi, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

"Y-Yeah," Lovino said. "Of course I am. W-what kind of question is that?"

"You're hurt," Antonio said simply.

"No I'm not. I'm f-fine," Lovino tried standing again and the pain made him keel over, ordering him to stay on his knees. "Nngh…!"

"See? You're not fine," Antonio wrapped Lovino's arm around his shoulders and assisted the later in standing. "I don't know why you say you are."

"I'm stubborn, remember?" Lovino winced as Antonio rose to his feet and in turn making Lovino stand as well. "Easy, easy! Not so fast."

"Sorry, _amor," _Antonio said softly and was anything _but _calm. He was livid, for lack of better word. How dare Damiano? How _dare _he! That man was just asking for it! With his emotions rocking like a hurricane, Antonio experienced a newfound rage—an anger that was completely foreign and his heart burned in its embers.

The duo took one step at a time and with each footfall, Lovino's agony intensified as he had not yet fully recovered from his last "visitor." Something warm trailed down the Italian's leg and he immediately knew it was blood. He just hoped it didn't stain his oversized shirt and that Antonio wouldn't notice. The Spaniard's hidden temper was already flaring.

"You can just leave me here," Lovino motioned towards the porch steps. "It's too risky helping me inside the house."

"But Lovino—"

"I can handle it, Antonio. I'm t-tougher than I look."

Antonio sighed. Conviction was another thing the Spaniard admired about the teen. Antonio helped Lovino conquer the porch steps before Lovino removed his arm from Antonio shoulders and hobbled away from the taller teen. They stared at each for a moment, underneath the moon's incandescent gaze, neither saying a word and neither wanting to say goodbye to the other.

"Meet me here tomorrow night? If you can?" Antonio whispered now that they were closer to the house.

Lovino nodded, "I'll try. I'll talk to my mom tomorrow if my dad isn't home yet. Thanks…"

Antonio kissed Lovino's head again, "Anything for you. So I'll be seeing you at school on Monday?"

"No," Lovino shook his head, no longer looking at the Spaniard and his shocked expression.

"No? What do you mean 'no'? Why won't you be there?"

"My father unregistered me from school the day we came back from seeing the fireflies."

"The girls won't be happy to hear this…"

"Listen; don't tell them all the personal stuff. You know, about the incident and everything. I'd like to keep that between us. It's too fucking embarrassing. Just be short, sweet and to the point—tell them I won't be coming back and you don't know why."

"You got it, Lovi. My lips are sealed," Antonio pretended to zip his lips, lock them up, and throw the key.

The Italian blushed and limped back inside the dark house, shutting the door softly. Antonio waited for a minute and then trekked back to his house, still unaware of the snake-like pair of eyes watching his every move from the upstairs window.

It was almost time.

The moment the door shut with a soft _'click,'_ Lovino almost went into immediate panic mode. He no longer felt safe. He stared into the shadows enveloping him as he waited for his eyes to adjust, his heart aching in his chest. The fear nibbled at him, taking larger bites each time. The Italian hobbled through the darkness, struggling not to bump into anything and wake his mother and younger brother. He could almost hear footsteps trod after him, slow and deliberate—like a mouse closing in on a cornered rat.

And Lovino was the rat.

He reached the basement after forever and nearly toppled down the stairwell harder than a sack of bricks. The teen scrambled to reach the bedside lamp and fumbled with the switch to turn it on. His eyes darted around the room as light flooded the area and his heart slowed down.

_Stop psyching yourself out, Lovino, _the Italian reprimanded himself. _There is no one in this house besides you, your mom and little brother. Quit it!_

"Easier said than done," Lovino sat down on the bed and shot back to his feet when he remembered his blood-stained clothing. He grunted at the pain reminding him to stop making such hasty movements, that his body wasn't ready for it yet.

Lovino stripped down and cleaned himself off, slipping on new clothes—this time only being sweatpants to cover his bruised figure. He counted the blotches on his shoulders and clavicle area, totaling them up to at least eight. Moving onto his neck, the marks made perfect fingers. It was then that the teen remembered it wasn't from the man who had left him a mess in tangled sheets. It was his father had done this to him during another one of his beatings, when dinner hadn't been cooked to standards (which was nearly impossible to).

The Italian crawled into a cold bed and shivered beneath the thin sheets, falling into a restless slumber.

* * *

It was a peaceful morning in the Vargas household when the sun met the horizon like an unforeseen kiss. The sky was painted brightly with pinks, peaches and purples—the art of nature. Birds chirped a beautiful melody and burst into their first flight of the day.

Damiano was still absent and that was perfectly fine with the mother and her two sons. They imagined that the man didn't exist at all, as if he wasn't tearing apart their family. It was a nice change. Felisa served her two sons breakfast and they ate in relative tranquility though fully expecting the door to fly open, announcing the arrival of a man they despised.

"What's wrong, Lovino?" Felisa asked, glancing between her brooding son and the plate that was short of a few bites from being full. "You've hardly touched your food."

"I'm not really hungry," the teen pushed it away and rested his chin in his hand.

"What's troubling you, dear?"

"Mom… we need to get out of here and go someplace else."

Felisa was taken aback at her son's sudden choice in topic but replied nonetheless, "Lovino, you know why we can't do that. We'd never make it."

"What if I told you that someone could help?" Lovino looked through his thick bangs at his mother.

"Who… who would be willing?" Felisa was now very interested but also very afraid.

"Antonio and his dad. He said they could get plane tickets for us to get out of here."

"But what about Dad? We just up and walk out of here. He'll kill us!" Feliciano added, his eyes just as wide and frightened as Felisa's.

"I know that. We'll have to leave when he's gone on trips like these."

"I've been saving some money," Felisa said, attracting the attention of her two sons. "It's not much since I've been out of work for so long but I've been doing odd jobs around town to help. Hopefully it'll help us get by."

"I can get my jar of saved money, too," Lovino piped up. "It's not much either."

"Let me help!" Feliciano stood up from in chair while making his declaration. "I've saved up from all my birthdays like I'm supposed to!"

"I can't believe we're really talking about doing this. We owe those two our lives," Felisa ran a hand through her hair.

"I'll tell Antonio when I see him. We just need to know when and where we're going."

"We're doing it, guys. We're getting out of here!" Feliciano chirped.

As the 12 year old continued to ramble about how exciting their trip was going to be, Felisa took this time to go over and hug her eldest son, ignoring the personal space boundary. Lovino, though greatly surprised, didn't fight in her embrace and remained relaxed as tears of joy streamed down her face.

"Thank you so much, Lovino. Thank you…!"

The teen placed a hand on the small of her back, murmuring a warm "You're welcome."

* * *

It wasn't until late that evening Antonio even had a chance to talk to his father. Adelita had been demanding all of Emilio's attention and even then it wasn't enough. She was being extra clingy, like a five year old begging for sweets. Antonio had no opportunity to come within two feet of the man. Emilio was doing his best to keep the woman somewhat happy, knowing that she was a ticking time bomb and could go off any second.

He didn't want Antonio caught in the middle of that.

As of the moment, the duo was now getting ready to go eat and Antonio had decided to sit this one out.

"Dad, I need to talk to you," Antonio looked around, waiting for his mother to appear.

"What about?" Emilio was looking around for his car keys, asking himself where he had put them.

"Right here, Dad, where they always are," Antonio picked them up off the end table and tossed them at his father.

"Thanks, son. Now what were you going to say?"

"I need to talk to you about Lovino."

"What about him? Is he okay?" Emilio wondered, concern leaking into his tone.

"Not exactly. You see, his dad's becoming abusive and he, his mom and brother need to get out of there ASAP but they don't have enough money to get plane tickets. So, um, I was wondering if we could maybe help out with that," Antonio began mumbling by the end of the explanation.

"Well, sure—"

"You want us to fork over that kind of money for some people who could take care of it themselves if they actually had a career? No way, dear. We don't help out charity cases," Adelita approached her son and pinched his cheek in a patronizing manner.

Antonio swatted her hand away, sending a death glare in the woman's direction.

"Let's go, honey," Adelita tugged on her husband's sleeve. "I'm starving."

"All right, I'm coming," the man nodded and whispered to Antonio. "We'll talk as soon as we get back. You sure you'll be all right here by yourself?"

"Dad, don't worry. I'm 15 years old. Everything will be fine. What's the worst that could happen?" Antonio gave a carefree gesture.

"Yeah, that gives me reason to worry," Emilio joked before leaving the house.

The teenager watched the headlights stream through the window before fading away down the street and into the night. He sighed. He was getting hungry now that his parents had left. As he rummaged through the refrigerator, Antonio's thoughts drifted back to Lovino.

What had his mother said about the offer? Would she accept or would she be too frightened to leave? The latter was an understandable answer but there was still the art of the possible. If she wanted what was best for her children, she'd leave as soon as she could.

Antonio pulled out some leftovers from the night before, knowing it was recently made since it was up towards the front. He inspected the food for any tampering.

He then hesitated.

Probably not the best idea.

The teen tossed the entire plate into the trashcan and searched the cabinets for something quick and easy he could cook as he wasn't in the mood to make himself a lavish dinner. Antonio turned on the stove and placed a pot of water on the surface for heating. He grabbed a glass and filled it with cold water from the pitcher to drink.

He gulped down the cool liquid in somewhat of a hasty manner and went to refill it.

Antonio then decided to watch some TV while waiting for the water to boil, checking back periodically.

However, ten minutes into the program he was watching, he began feeling light headed and dizzy, his vision alternating in and out of focus. Antonio stood up and the moment he did, he collapsed back on the couch again and his head swam.

He could barely form a coherent thought other than asking himself what was happening to him. Antonio staggered to the phone, clumsily dialing Lovino's number and struggled to maintain his balance and consciousness as the dial tone sounded.

"_Ciao, Feliciano speaking~!" _came a chipper voice.

"Feli…" Antonio drawled. "W-Where's Lovino? It's… it's Antonio."

"_Hang on, Toni, I'll get him for you! Wait, are you sure you're feeling all right? You don't sound too good."_

"I… I just need to… to talk to him. Thank you, Feli."

There was the sound of footsteps and a small exchange of words before a new voice came on the line.

"_Antonio? Everything okay?"_

"Lovi, I'm… I'm not feeling too well. I don't think—I don't think I'll be able to make it tonight," Antonio's vision was blurring again and his body suddenly felt heavier than cinderblocks and he fell to his knees.

"_What's wrong? Do you need some medicine?"_

"I honestly don't know what's wrong with me…" the Spaniard's breathing was becoming labored and sweat started beading on his skin. "I think I'll be okay…"

"_You don't sound okay though. You didn't eat anything your mother cooked, did you?"_

"No…" Antonio panted, his chest tightening with every single breath. "She doesn't cook… cook anymore. My father does…"

The Spaniard cried out as he crumpled to the floor as his muscles began to spasm and he gasped for even the least bit of oxygen. It felt as if his airways had been cut off! Antonio's heart constricted and another pained cry was heard by the Italian on the other line.

"Lovi… help…"

He then fell silent.


	14. Chapter 13

**Lucky number 13. We're nearing the end but not quite there yet. I'm not exactly sure how many chapters are left until we arrive at our last stop. Thank you so much for riding this bumpy emotional rollercoaster of a fanfic. I cannot express enough gratitude other than trying to get the next chapters out as fast as I can. I hope you are all still thorougly satisfied and yes, I know I'm a sadist for leaving the last chapter hanging the way I did. Haha, I enjoy it sometimes.**

**(FUUU ALL MY FEELS!)**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**WARNINGS: Language, violence and sexual refereneces/themes.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

The phone clattered to the hardwood.

"_Fratello, _what's wrong?" Feliciano questioned, breaking the deafening silence.

"Call an ambulance! _NOW!" _the teen sprinted out the door and to the house on his right, bursting through the door and paling at the sight.

Antonio convulsed on the floor, not violently but it was noticeable to one who was paying attention. His skin was reduced to an ashen state and blood stained the corners of his mouth a dark red. The Italian rushed to his lover's side, shaking his shoulder.

"Antonio, wake up. Wake up!" the teen placed two fingers to Antonio's neck.

A faint pulse along with short and shallow breaths. Lovino shook Antonio's shoulder again, trying to provoke a reaction from the pale teen.

He wasn't dead…!

He wasn't dead!

"Wake up! Damn it, Antonio, wake up! You'd better not fucking die on me, you understand? I will never forgive you! Ever! Do you hear me! You'd better not fucking die!" Lovino turned the frail Spaniard on his back, pulled him close and was more than relieved to see jade eyes slowly fluttering open.

"L-Lovino…? W-Where a-are you…? It's dark…" Antonio's lethargic half-lidded eyes were unseeing.

"I'm right here, Antonio. Stay with me, okay?" tears began to prick Lovino's eyes and he took Antonio's hand in his, noting how hot it was compared to his. "We've called an ambulance and they're going to get you better. Just hang in there!"

Antonio squeezed Lovino's hand tightly, gritting his teeth, "H-Hurts…!"

Not knowing what to say to bring any sort of comfort, the Italian held Antonio close as the latter's trembling intensified and Antonio's quickened breaths chilled Lovino to the bone.

"Be strong for me,"Lovino begged, the tears coming dangerously close to spilling. "If you're strong for me… I'll be strong for you! Just don't leave me here alone! I can't live without you!"

"D-Don't cry, Lovi… I hate to s-see you c-cry…" Antonio rasped, inhaling sharply as whatever was in the water spread throughout his system via bloodstream. The teen felt as if he had been doused in gasoline and thrown into a pit of fire. Lovino's hand felt cool in his own clammy palm as he squeezed it once more.

"Then you'd better not leave me!" pearls of clear liquid dripped onto Antonio's shirt. "Y-You promised you wouldn't leave me and I expect you to keep that fucking promise! I didn't tell you to go a-anywhere yet!"

"I'm… I'm t-trying, Lovi…" Antonio wheezed, desperate to control the inferno attacking him.

If… if Antonio didn't make it… what was there left for the little Italian boy of only 14?

What was there to live for?

_Who _could he live for?

Who would whisper sweet nothings into his ear?

Who would go on late night walks with him?

Who would erase his tears and hold him close?

Who would complete his soul?

Who would… who would love him?

A loud noise at the door caught Lovino's attention and his little brother was standing there, out of breath again. The younger Italian struggled to compose himself before speaking.

"The ambulance is on their way! They'll be here in two minutes!" Feliciano panted, leaning on the doorjamb for a moment before rushing to Lovino's side.

"You hear that, Antonio? The ambulance is coming. You're going to be okay," Lovino returned his gaze back to Antonio and his eyes widened.

Blood was seeping through both sides of Antonio's mouth and his complexion was becoming sallower by the minute if that was even possible. There was no longer the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Those eyes were no longer open and his body fell limp in Lovino's arms.

"Antonio…?" Lovino attempted at waking up the Spaniard.

Nothing.

Stillness.

Dead silence.

"_Antonio!"_

* * *

It had been such a blur—the ride in the ambulance, the shouting of orders as they wheeled Antonio into the operating room… everything. Lovino was now pacing in the waiting room to the point where grooves could've been made, anxious and prepared to hear the best… or worst. Feliciano and Felisa had been watching the teen for some time now, just as apprehensive as he was. They didn't dare tell Lovino to try and relax.

They had been waiting for so long now that hope seemed to be nothing but a minute beacon in the distance. The trio had attempted to keep themselves busy but it was fruitless. Worrying was all they managed to do and it was starting to make them sick—Lovino especially.

The sound of the door clicking open made them all stand to attention and everyone for that moment, stopped breathing or even dared to move. The doctor fixed his glasses back on his face and combed a hand through his light blonde hair, sighing heavily.

Lovino felt his heart drop into the pits of his stomach.

This wasn't sounding good at all—

"Are you the patient's family?" he asked.

"No, but we're friends of the family. He was home alone when we found him," Felisa replied.

"All right, well, Mr. Carriedo is out of the woods for now. He's safe."

The Italian teen's knees grew weak with relief. Antonio was… safe? He was alive? The promise had been kept? He let out a shaky breath, his eyes dampening with tears.

He was… okay!

Antonio would live!

Everything would work out in the end!

"But," the doctor continued and Lovino's blood ran cold. "He'll be out of it for a few days—a week or two at the most. He's in a comatose-like state as his body needs time to recover."

"What was wrong with him?" Lovino and Feliciano wondered in unison.

"There were low levels of sarin found in his bloodstream which is a poison that attacks the nervous system. It is a miracle that you got him here in such a short amount of time because if you hadn't… the damage would've been irreparable."

"Sarin?" Feliciano questioned. "What's that?"

"Sarin attacks the nervous system. It is a colorless, odorless liquid that was once used as a chemical weapon in warfare. It has been used in insecticides before as well," the man explained. "Luckily he had only been exposed to low concentrations of it but even that can be fatal. Anymore and he would've been dead within a minute's time."

The trio listened on, their dread growing by the second.

"I'd rather not go on into more detail since he's already been saved but I do have one question."

"What is it?" Felisa wondered.

"Where in the world did he come in contact with an insecticide? He's 15, correct? He surely knows better than to ingest poisonous substances such as that," the doctor said.

Something suddenly clicked in Lovino's head.

There was only one person who would've made sure that happened.

"Um, we're not entirely sure," Felisa hummed in thought, looking unsure. "We're not his family and he was home alone at the time."

"Well, until Antonio wakes up, we're not going to be able to figure out—"

"Adelita," Lovino interrupted the doctor and spoke with such malice that the other three's attention was drawn to him immediately. "She's the one who poisoned him."

"Adelita is Antonio's mom, isn't she?" Feliciano piped up.

"Yes, she is," Felisa nodded. "Lovino, why would you say such a thing?"

"Because it's true; she's been poisoning Antonio ever since he was a child. Why do you think he was so sick all the time and the doctors couldn't make an accurate diagnosis?" Lovino scanned the faces of the two adults and his younger brother, catching hints of disbelief in their eyes.

"This isn't something to be taken lightly," the doctor's tone was stern. "What you're saying is that this is attempted murder."

"Of course I am! What else would it be? What reason do I have to lie?" Lovino was getting frustrated. "Look, have you heard of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy?"

A look of pure confusion danced its way along Felisa's and Feliciano's faces so they turned to the man bespectacled man beside them, silently asking the same question.

"Yes…" the doctor started, trying to jog his memory. "We didn't delve too much into it but yes, I'm aware of it. Why?"

"That's what Antonio's mom has. I'm sure at any moment now, she'll come through that fucking door acting all worried for her son when she's the one who did this to him! He had to stop eating her food because she would put fucking household cleaners in it! He's been healthy as a horse ever since!" Lovino was desperate to get through to them.

"Lovino, watch your mouth!" Felisa reprimanded, thoroughly appalled at son.

"We have bigger things to worry about my use of language, Mom!" Lovino retorted, whipping around to look at her with a glare.

"You're serious about this, aren't you, boy?" the doctor questioned, his tone void of any accusation.

"As the plague," the teen growled, his brow twitching anger at what the man had called him. Of course the doctor was ignorant of one of Lovino's many pet peeves, but that didn't stop the flame from igniting in his heart. He wasn't some "boy." That wasn't his name! He was Lovino Vargas!

"All right, when his parents get here, I'll ask them a few questions. In the meantime, you may see him for as long as you desire. Try not to disturb him too much. He needs his rest. I'm going to contact his parents," the man then walked away, leaving the trio to file in the room quietly.

Lovino didn't expect to see Antonio this way, frail and insipid. The Italian couldn't believe that this was happening again. All that progress had been flushed down the drain! They were back at square one—to their shattered beginning.

He shuffled over to Antonio and sat in the one vacant chair beside the bed, taking Antonio's hand into his. It was cold now—freezing even. If he didn't know any better, he would've said that Antonio was… _gone. _The only sign of that the Spaniard was living was the consistent beeping of the heart monitor. Lovino hung his head, praying to God that Antonio would make it out of this alive.

He wouldn't be able to handle the loneliness. He had endured too much of that! He had been waiting for what seemed like a thousand years for Antonio and he wasn't about to let him go now! He couldn't—he couldn't lose who he cherished most! He had died every day waiting for Antonio, believing that there was no one out there who would _truly _love him for who he was and understand his insecurities.

Lovino could remember so clearly the first day he met the Spaniard who had arrived at his doorstep, sick but still harboring a golden smile and bright eyes. His heart had been beating so fast that day. The Italian didn't want to believe he had fallen in love. He had been so afraid of his heart being slaughtered mercilessly that he didn't want to take the risk giving it to someone else—he didn't want to fall with no one to catch him.

That day… the day that Antonio had taken him to see the fireflies, he had seen love's true value. Underneath those dancing lights, Lovino had never seen someone look so… _beautiful. _It was like a halo surrounded Antonio completely, revealing to Lovino a hidden angel. All of his doubt concerning their relationship had fled without any hope of returning. It no longer burdened him or his feelings for the Spanish teen who had moved in next door. For the first time in forever, he felt…

…free.

Unknowingly, he had been set free and his stone heart crumbled.

But now… now the insecurity was back again, locking Lovino's heart within a wrought iron cage with the intentions of locking his love away. However, Lovino wouldn't allow it. He wasn't going to let go of something he had been waiting his whole life for! He was going to be brave and nothing would take Antonio from him—not even death itself.

Lovino trembled subtly, the tears of regret flowing freely down his face and he sobbed quietly.

Felisa and Feliciano watched Lovino mourn over the unconscious Antonio, Feliciano with sorrowful understanding and Felisa with sympathy and the dawn of realization. How had she not seen it before? How could she have been so blind?

The reason Lovino had been practically glowing lately… was because of Antonio.

Her son had fallen in love and she had been oblivious to it.

They were each other's reasons for existing.

"Come on, Mama, let's give them some alone time. Lovino needs this," Feliciano tugged at the woman's hand gently.

She followed her son out of the room silently, sparing one glance over her shoulder prior to exiting. Outside, Felisa's cellphone began ringing and her intuition already told her who it was. She answered it anyway with an anxious "Hello?"

"_WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!" _Damiano hollered over the phone.

"We-We're at the hospital," Felisa barely had time to reply before Damiano was yelling again.

"_Why the hell are you at the hospital!"_

"Antonio, t-the boy next door, he's terribly sick—"

"_I don't give a damn about that kid! You, Feliciano and that piece of shit are supposed to be at home! Someone's been waiting for that whore for over an hour now! You tell him he'll be wishing for death by the time I'm done with his ass!"_

_Click._

Felisa dropped into a chair, slouched over with her elbows resting on her knees and hands fisted in her long auburn curls. Her honey eyes were misty with tears as she struggled not to cry. Feliciano sat next to her, placing his hand on the small of her back.

"What's wrong, Mama?"

"Your father's on his way here," she shuddered. "God help us."

Lovino exited the room minutes after with red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose. His head was low and he had purposely brushed his hair in his face to hide his still rampant emotions. He plopped down in a seat across the duo, finding the floor more interesting.

"He's on his way, isn't he?" Lovino murmured, his voice unbearably loud in the silence.

Felisa nodded and Feliciano responded with a frightened, "Yes."

The teen remained still until the sound of footfalls drew their attention behind them and Antonio's parents were rushing down the hall. Emilio was flustered, more so than his wife.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Rest assured, Mr. Carriedo, he's stable for now. We're still keeping a sharp eye out for him. There were was a low concentration of the poison sarin in his blood, which he most likely got from an insecticide. Sarin attacks the nervous system. These three were able to get him here in time. He's extremely fortunate," the doctor said, trying to calm the man down.

"Can we see him?" Adelita's voice was coated with false worry.

"Actually, Mrs. Carriedo, I have a few questions I'd like to ask you regarding your son's health condition," the doctor held his hand up to as a signal to stop the woman from advancing. Emilio was already headed towards Antonio's room when Adelita grabbed his wrist.

"What're you doing, Emilio? Tell this man I have a right to see my son!"

"Adelita, just answer the questions, okay? I don't have time for this," he tried walking away and she gave his arm another firm yank.

"It's not fair that you get to see him and I don't," she said.

"Today's not the day and I'm not the one, you understand me!" Emilio tore his arm away and stomped into Antonio's room.

"What are these questions you could possibly have? I want to see my son!" Adelita stressed.

"Bitch, you're the one who did this to him!" Lovino stormed towards the woman and it took both Feliciano and Felisa to hold the teenager back as he thrashed in their hold. "Don't go acting all worried and shit when _you_ poisoned him! You could've _killed him!"_

"_Fratello, _calm down, please!" Feliciano begged, pulling his brother's arm.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down, Feliciano!" Lovino snarled, still trying to get at the Spanish woman. "I am not going to calm down! She almost killed Antonio and she fucking knows it! Why the hell are you defending that wench!"

"Lovino, hush now, you're making a scene!" Felisa scolded, tugging Lovino back.

The teen with fiery forest eyes glowered at Adelita, a deep growl rumbling in his chest and nostrils flaring.

"Just answer these questions and you may. After all, I'm sure a… _concerned _mother such as you would be willing to do anything regarding her son's well-being," the doctor's tone leaked with sarcasm and suspicion.

"Of course," Adelita nodded slowly.

"Glad we've reached an understanding," he said, going a ways down the hall out of earshot of the others.

Lovino took this opportunity to rip his arms from his mother's and brother's grip and sat back down in his seat, grumbling something incoherently. Feliciano placed his hand on the eldest son's shoulder, showing silent support and Lovino didn't bother cringing from his touch.

"_Felisa!" _a voice bellowed from the other end of the hall and all heads turned in the direction of it.

Damiano charged down the hall, eyes focused on Lovino and Felisa hurried to intercept her husband, trying to calm him down. Lovino watched the man carefully and with fearless orbs. He wasn't going to back down this time. He wasn't going to cower away like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Not this time!

"Excuse me, sir, but who the hell are you?" the doctor questioned with a leery gaze, forgetting his unprofessional demeanor due to the manner this man had entered.

"H-He's my husband," Felisa stuttered, still focusing on her task at hand.

"Move out of my way, Felisa," Damiano ordered.

"Damiano, please—"

"You shut up when I'm talking. Don't make me remind you. We're going home. Now," Damiano scowled and pushed his way past the woman and headed towards Lovino.

"Careful, Damiano; don't want to make a scene, now do you? It would ruin your… already damaged reputation," Lovino challenged, standing to face the man head on.

He was tired of being afraid.

It was time to make a change, even if it cost him his life.

Damiano stopped dead in his tracks and Lovino knew he had struck a nerve and whether or not said nerve would depend on if he would be able to move the next day was of no concern to him. Lovino could feel Feliciano's worried stare on his back but he stood behind Lovino nonetheless.

"Sir, if you don't calm yourself right now, I'm going to call security," the doctor warned.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Damiano smirked.

"Leave them alone," Emilio stepped out of Antonio's room. "They've done nothing wrong."

"Emilio, right? Hmph," Damiano snorted. "This is my family—they are of no concern to you."

"They saved my son's life. They are now."

"You worry about your family and I'll worry about mine. Mind your business. We're leaving."

"Just because you had a broken one means you have to tear yours apart? You're nothing like the kid I grew up with," Emilio's ocean eyes sparked with electricity.

"You're right—I'm not. Not anymore. Moving to another country changes a man," Damiano answered, his voice cold. "Stay out of my business, Emilio. You haven't earned the right. We're going home."

"No, I'm staying here with Antonio," Lovino objected, earning nothing more than angry surprise from the man who helped conceive him.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. I'm staying with Antonio."

"Visiting hours are long past over, boy. No one but his parents are allowed to stay. Hospital policy," Damiano spat with a sneer.

Lovino's eyes narrowed to slits as he and the rest of his family were practically dragged away.

It would be another long night.


	15. Chapter 14

**Whew. I'm tired. I always seem to update around the same time-either 1 or 2 AM.**

**We're almost to 200 reviews guys. I can't even begin to express enough gratitude. I just want to thank you all for everything you have done for me and this story. I was so afraid that this wouldn't be as popular as Midnight Dancers and guess what? It's surpassed that point. MD was my most successful story until now. So... just... gah! THANK YOU ALL SO VERY, VERY MUCH.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language, violence, mental illnesses, abuse, and sexual references/themes.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

"You have history with Damiano? You failed to mention this to me," Adelita questioned, raising a fine eyebrow in curiosity. The doctor's interrogation had been interrupted since he went to check that Antonio had not been disturbed by the argument.

The duo were watching the doctor check the teen's vitals, leaving shortly after writing something on a clipboard. He seemed to be in quite a hurry…

Emilio nodded, "He was a childhood friend of mine. I can't believe I didn't notice it before. Lovino looks just like Damiano, as much as I hate to say it. They could be twins. Anyway, Damiano had a rough life—his parents didn't want him and he moved from foster home to foster home until he finally settled down back here in Italy. He came to Spain when my neighbor took him in and that's how we met."

. . .

_Nine-year-old Emilio sat on his front porch, slumped over in boredom. He sighed. What was he to do? It was summer vacation and he had no friends to play with. He was not exactly noticed among the other kids in the neighborhood due to his shyness and overall quiet nature. He was never really a social butterfly and would always feel extremely awkward when his parents would drag him to their friends' houses._

"_Hola, Emilio! How are you doing today?" his neighbor, Mrs. Fuentes, waved._

_The boy waved back politely, giving a small smile and his tiny voice barely carrying itself across, "I-I'm okay. How are you?" _

"_I'm good," she grinned. "Are your parents' home?"_

"_N-No, they went to the store. They said they'll b-be back l-later," the reserved boy said._

_It was then that he noticed someone much shorter than her shooting a glare in his direction, and he cringed from his gaze. A boy around his age, he noted. Tan skin, dark straight brunette hair and deep, dark forest green eyes—much different from his crème skin, light curly chestnut hair and radiant sapphire orbs._

"_Oh all right then. Well come on by if you need anything or just feeling lonely!" Mrs. Fuentes smiled then she had an idea. "Damiano, why don't you go introduce yourself and keep him company until we get your things unpacked?"_

_Damiano gave her a pleading look, silently begging her for another task._

"_Go on," she stressed, nodding her head towards Emilio. "You need to make at least one friend before you start school."_

_The Italian boy sighed and trudged over to Emilio's house, grumbling something incoherently. He stopped a few feet from where the other was sitting, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The Spaniard sat there, hands in his lap, looking anywhere but at his neighbor. The duo's silence was inept, neither wanting to start the conversation._

"_Might as well get this over with. I can't stand it being quiet," the Italian sighed heavily in annoyance. "My name's Damiano Vargas. What's your name?"_

"_U-Um, my name is E-Emilio," the Spanish boy's voice died down to the softest whisper by the time he said his name._

"_What'd you say?" Damiano raised an eyebrow._

"_Um… m-my name is E-Emilio…" his voice was even quieter than before._

"_I still didn't hear you," Damiano tried getting closer to the other. "Speak up, will you?"_

"_I-I-I, u-um…" Emilio cursed his shy nature in his head. This was the exact reason he had no friends. They always grew frustrated when trying to introduce themselves and he would act bashful and hardly say a word._

"_Look, you can't go around being so shy all the time," Damiano took a seat next to the boy, effectively surprising Emilio. "You gotta learn to be assertive!"_

"_A-Assertive?" Emilio tilted his head in confusion, his voice still soft. "Wh-what does that mean?"_

"_It means to be confident! Come on, what have your parents' been teaching you your entire life?" Damiano laughed lightheartedly._

"_O-Oh, well, I, uh…"_

"_You seem to be the type of guy that's afraid of his own shadow," the Italian smirked._

_Emilio's brow twitched in irritation, "I-I'm not afraid o-of m-my own shadow…!"_

"_You stutter a lot. I definitely think you are," Damiano pressed._

"_I am not!" Emilio shouted._

"_See? That's what I mean by being assertive!" Damiano grinned, giving Emilio a firm and encouraging pat on the back._

_Emilio could feel his face heating up from embarrassment and Damiano laughed at the red stains on the former's cheeks._

"_You know what? I'm going to make it our summer goal to help you be more confident in yourself! You'll have a lot more friends that way!" the Italian beamed._

"_Y-You don't have to do that," Emilio shook his head._

"_I know I don't but I want to! There's a difference—learn it," Damiano kept his smile. "After all, what're friends for? I'm not gonna leave ya hanging!"_

_Emilio's oceanic eyes widened in shock and his jaw fell slightly agape._

…_friend?_

_He had… a friend?_

_A real friend?_

"_So what do ya say?" Damiano stuck his hand out. "Friends?"_

_Emilio hesitated for a moment, glancing back and forth between Damiano and his hand before holding out his own, and shaking the other's hand, "F-Friends."_

_. . ._

The Spanish man's features softened at the memory, "He lived there for about five years before he was sent off again for reasons unknown. We lost touch after that. I heard he went through hell, though. That still doesn't give him the right to treat his family the way he does. He should instead be trying to make sure they have a better life than what he did."

"What do you suggest we do then? Break down the door and demand he leaves them alone?"

"Come on, Adelita, use your head. We're going to call the authorities. What else? This has to be stopped now," Emilio pulled out his cellphone, ready to dial when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

"N-No…!" Antonio rasped, greatly surprising the others with his sudden consciousness. "Y-You c-c-can't…!"

"Antonio," Emilio was at his son's side instantly. "You're awake—the doctor said you'd be out for at least a week or more. This is great!"

"D-Dad, you c-can't call t-the p-police…! L-Lovino won't m-make it," Antonio didn't hear anything his father had said. "He-He'll die!"

"Toni, what do you mean? Damiano wouldn't kill him, would he?"

Antonio only managed to nod, his face twisted in pain, finding that speaking took too much energy and he could feel himself being tossed back into the darkness again—into the inferno. His choppy and quickened breaths were now becoming slow and even again, his eyes closing.

Emilio tried to get more of an explanation from his son before the latter fell back to sleep but to no avail. Adelita watched her husband place his hand to Antonio's head, brushing back dampened bangs from sweat. Antonio was recovering faster than she anticipated. If there was one thing she hated about that kid, it was his perseverance and unyielding spirit. He had the soul of a soldier in this battle. At this rate, it would take forever to knock him to his knees.

She had to do something and fast.

She had to keep him in the hospital.

It was the only way to receive the attention she so desperately coveted.

Come to think of it, she _did _still have that syringe in her purse in case of… emergencies such as this one. She had used up all of the sarin in the water pitcher which she would have to dump out as soon as she got home and replace it with the clean water. She couldn't allow Emilio and herself to ingest it—that'd be a huge mess to clean up.

Adelita fished through her purse for the syringe.

Tonight.

* * *

"You're knee-deep in shit, you realize that?" Damiano had shoved his eldest son into the house.

Lovino had caught himself so as not to give his father the opportunity to see him on the ground. If that happened, he knew he wouldn't be getting back up. The teenager glowered at the man, his expression calm and collected but his eyes burning.

"I've known that," Lovino's voice was steady. "I just don't give a fuck anymore. I saved someone I cared about and that's all that matters to me."

"I could care less what happened to that boy! He could've died and it wouldn't have mattered because I told you to stay away from him, did I not?"

"I don't give a damn what you said! I love him and that's final!"

_Do not back down. Stand your ground. It's the only way he'll leave you alone._

Seeing that his son's placid demeanor hadn't been shaken, Damiano stormed towards the latter but stopped short when Feliciano stood between the two of them, his amber eyes a glowing fire.

"Leave him _alone!" _Feliciano snarled, his eyes narrowing to slits.

"Are you crazy, Feliciano? Get out of the way!" Lovino said harshly. "This has nothing to do with you!"

"No! I made a promise to you and I intend to keep that promise! I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines!" Feliciano never took his eyes off of his father. "He's not going to hit you anymore. If he does, he'll have to hit me first. That's the only way."

"Feliciano, move," Damiano's voice was dangerously low. "I don't want to hurt you."

"No," the 12-year-old was adamant. "You're not hurting him anymore. You hurt him, you hurt me. And I don't think you want to do that, do you, Papa?"

Damiano was oddly silent, staring at Lovino in what seemed to be disbelief, "First you murder a child and now you've filled my son's head with all these ideas that you're worth saving. What more can you take away from me? What more do you want?"

"What're you talking about? I've never killed anyone or anything in my life—especially a child!" Lovino was greatly confused. His entire life he had been claimed as a murderer by his father and not once was he offered any sort of explanation. That was about to change.

"Damiano, please—" Felisa started.

"No, it's time the little piece of shit knew what he's really worth," Damiano seemed to have calmed significantly but never broke eye contact with his eldest son. "Go on, Felisa. Tell him the truth. He is _your _son. It's only fitting."

Felisa was silent and the man emphasized his order with a glare for the books, sending shivers down his wife's spine, from the crown of her head to her heels.

She sighed, gathering her thoughts, "Lovino, you weren't born an only child. You… you had a twin—an older twin sister who died due to childbirth complications."

"That still doesn't mean he's a murderer!" Feliciano said, temper boiling.

"His umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck."

. . .

_The doctor had finally released her from the umbilical cord's tight hold and his silence was not reassuring to the parents watching in anticipation. He held the ashen newborn girl in his arms, trying to see if a cry would escape past her violet stained lips. Her eyes remained shut and chest still, appearing as if she was sleeping peacefully. The practitioner, with a pained expression, gently handed the baby to a nurse who wrapped her tiny body in a pink blanket._

"_Stillborn," he said simply. "We were too late."_

_Both Damiano and Felisa watched the nurse enfold their daughter snugly into the blanket and hold her close in the back of the room, staying out of the way._

_Their little girl… was gone._

_Everything had been going perfectly! It didn't make any sense! How? How could they lose their child so quickly? It wasn't long until Felisa was required to push again, tears running down her face not from just physical pain. She squeezed Damiano's hand and let out a cry before another's replaced hers._

"_A boy; he's very strong," the doctor let the duo have a sorrowful glance at their son and then handed the baby to a second waiting nurse._

_The only sound in the room was the living infant's first breaths of life as he continued to wail from the cold. His tiny fists were close against his chest as he shivered and the nurse quickened her pace in wrapping him in a blue wool blanket. She held him out to Felisa and the new mother took him eagerly, examining his features._

_A miniature Damiano is what she saw._

_Lovino was the name they decided to give him. A miracle child to say the least._

_And her little girl… her little Angioletta, her angel…_

…_gone._

_The baby boy quieted upon resting in his mother's arms and Felisa watched her son tentatively. The clear liquid never ceased to flow and a few drops landed on the infant's now reddening cheeks, causing his face to scrunch up from the foreign contact._

_The medical staff ushered themselves out of the room with the lifeless infant and Damiano watched them, ignoring his newborn son's whimpers._

"_D-Damiano, do you… do you want to hold him?" Felisa offered, her voice filled with uncertainty. "He's perfectly healthy. We have a son."_

"_No. I don't want to hold him. We lost our daughter and all you can think about is him? Some mother you are," the man exited the room and slammed the door._

_Lovino's cries filled the room again and Felisa attempted to calm him down by singing to him softly. She understood that they had lost a daughter—she felt the same pain he did. But couldn't he also see that their son was delivered into this world unharmed and perfectly healthy?_

"_Hush now, my baby; be still now, don't cry," she crooned. "Sleep as you're rocked by the stream; sleep and remember my last lullaby… so I'll be with you when you dream."_

_Felisa kissed Lovino's forehead._

_She could only pray for the best._

. . .

Lovino stood there, taking it all in as his mother and brother watched him with careful eyes. Damiano had already long since left the house but the trio hadn't even noticed.

"It wasn't your fault, Lovino. Don't let your father fill your head with those lies," Felisa approached her son slowly. "The loss of a child… can make people go crazy. Your father never truly saw what a tragedy and a blessing that day was. March 17th—the day I had two children and lost one. It was the saddest and happiest day of my life."

Feliciano glanced at his brother's expression transitioning from stunned silence to something softer, more… confused. How was it not his fault? It was _his _umbilical cord that killed his sister, wasn't it? Even if he had no control, it was… still _his _hands that were soiled.

He couldn't seem to push that thought from his head.

His father's cruel words over the years had cut too deep and left too large a wound.

Felisa knew her sons didn't understand and they didn't need to. It wasn't necessary. All they needed to know is that she loved and cared for them.

"So all of that baby stuff—the girl clothes and toys…" Lovino started, unable to finish.

"They were meant for your sister, yes," Felisa nodded. "We—I—didn't want to tell you two until you were both much older."

"What was her name?"

"Angioletta," the mother smiled sweetly.

"Angel," Feliciano translated it. "It's true, though. She really is an angel!"

"That's right; she is. For the longest time I believed that she was watching over us—over Lovino, specifically," Felisa's eyes became muddled with memories. "I believe she has helped you get this far, she has helped you remain strong along with your own determination. And I can't thank you enough for that."

Lovino just stared at his mother, saying nothing.

"Go on to bed, boys. It's late. We'll visit Antonio in the morning."

"Come on, _fratello,"_ Feliciano gently grabbed at Lovino's wrist to pull him from his thoughts.

The older Italian simply followed his sibling up the stairs and to their shared bedroom.

"_Fratello, _are you all right?" Feliciano asked once changing into his pajamas. "You look… scared."

"I'm fine, Feliciano," Lovino crawled into bed after his nighttime routine.

"You don't seem fine," the younger commented.

"It's been a long day. I'm tired."

"It's understandable. Sorry for asking so many questions. I just get worried, you know? I really thought Papa was going to beat you up again today! I couldn't let that happen! You don't deserve it!"

"Thank you, Feliciano. I appreciate it," Lovino interrupted his brother's incessant rambling, his back turned to said sibling. "I really do."

"No. Thank _you, fratello. _For so long you've protected us and it's only now that I'm beginning to see it. I'm sorry for that and I hope you can forgive me."

"I did a long time ago."

"You did? Really? Thank you, _fratello! _Thank you so much!" Feliciano hopped over and hugged his brother tightly. The latter tried prying his sibling off, ordering him to let go.

"Feliciano! Damn it! Let go of me! Just because I said I forgave you doesn't mean you get to jump on me and hug me like a damned fool!"

"Sorry, _fratello! _It just made me really happy! And I'm sure Momma will be happy to know that we are forgiven! We really do care about you, Lovi! Honest!" Feliciano grinned from ear to ear.

"Yeah, okay," Lovino waved the boy off, feeling a headache start to take over. "Go to sleep."

Even though the tone was nonchalant, Feliciano knew it brought Lovino relief to hear that he was still cared for, that he still had a place in their hearts. The younger of the two scrambled back into his bed and turned off the lamp, staring into the darkness.

Lovino sighed in content. He was back in his own bed, away from the memories murdering and hindering his every thought and action. The sheets, the smell… it was _clean. _He felt clean, after all this time. No soiled sheets, no pain.

His father should stay away more often, Lovino thought as his eyes were slipping closed.

"_Fratello?"_

"What is it, Feliciano?"

"Do you… do you ever think about the future? You know, about what might happen tomorrow, or next week or next month or next year? I do. I think about it a lot," Feliciano whispered.

"Sometimes," was Lovino's short reply.

"Do you ever think about getting married? Or having kids? Because I think you and Antonio would be great parents if you had kids—"

"Wh-What kind questions are those?" Lovino sat up quickly, thankful for the darkness otherwise his brother would've caught the coloration of his face. "That's a _long _time from now, Feliciano! You're only 12 years old! You shouldn't be thinking about that kind of junk!"

"It was just a question, _fratello," _Feliciano tittered at Lovino's reaction. "But really, answer me. Do you want kids?"

"Maybe… someday… I don't know. I don't think I'm cut out to be a parent," Lovino shrugged.

"You'll be a great parent, Lovi~! I'm positive you will be!" Feliciano chirped. "A boy or a girl?"

"What?"

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" the younger repeated.

"A boy, I guess. Either is fine with me. I would like a boy though."

"I want a little girl. She'll be so cute and I'll cuddle with her and play games with her every day! What activities will you do with your son?"

"I don't know. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Oh, well I'm going to plan ahead so there'll be enough time to play games and teach her things!"

Lovino couldn't help that small smile playing at his lips.

His brother was such a ditz sometimes.

* * *

Adelita's emerald eyes glowed in the dim light of the hospital room. The moon gazed upon her as she shuffled through the darkness quietly, her eyes focused like a serpent on her prey. She checked many a time on Emilio's sleeping figure. Fumbling with the object in her pocket, the needle glinted in the small amount of light there was. The needle was now in Antonio's IV, and the blue liquid was injected into the clear plastic tubing. She watched Antonio's expression, satisfied with any little twitch or whimper.

Antonio inhaled sharply and shakily, his face contorted with pain as it circulated throughout his body. His heart rate sped up and his fever returned to a solid 103.

"Perfect," she purred in the darkness, stuffing her weapon of choice back in her purse. "You won't be getting out of this hospital any time soon, my dear boy. I need you to stay here as long as possible."

. . .

_Antonio had travelled even farther in the darkness, if that was possible. He couldn't find his way out—he couldn't find his way back home. He wanted to see his dad, he wanted to see Lovino. His little tomato. He wanted to hold the Italian in his arms again._

_He wanted to see those forest eyes he had adored the moment he saw them._

_He wanted to see that one protruding curl twitch in annoyance._

_He wanted to see those cheeks flush with embarrassment._

_He wanted to see that one rare smile light up the room._

_He wanted…_

_He wanted fresh air, he wanted to breathe. It was suffocating here! With each breath he took, his lungs would choke on nothing but the heat surrounding him, engulfing him in invisible flames. The fire was still going strong, licking at his insides, reducing him to nothing but ash._

_This fire…_

_This agonizing, overwhelming fire… would be the death of him._

_He didn't know how much longer he would last here._

_He had found the light for a split second, just enough to hear his parents' conversation and warn them but it was soon out of his grasp and he fell for what seemed like an eternity before hitting the bottom. It didn't hurt when he landed. He just sort of… floated._

_He needed to get back to that one beacon of light._

_He needed to get back to Lovino._


	16. Chapter 15

**I apologize for the short and more than likely awful chapter. I'm sick. Headaches. Congestion. Cough. Sore throat. It hurts to talk. I began feeling (slightly) better towards the end of the chapter and you can all probably tell but I wasn't in the mood to do much else. Please forgive me. You all deserve an update because we have made it to over 200 reviews. THANK YOU ALL SO VERY MUCH!**

**On the flip side, I want to thank (Guest) HeymomaHey for telling about the new fanart for this story she is currently working on. I can't wait to see it! I'm so excited and I am positive it will be lovely! Thank you so very much!**

**Another thing, congratulations to CookieBirdGirl for figuring out the song Felisa was singing to baby Lovino was indeed the River Lullaby from the Prince of Egypt. Great movie. Great song. I sing it to my baby sister all the time when she's upset and it calms her down even if I'm not the best singer, haha.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Violence, language, mental illness, and sexual themes/references.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

Emilio watched his son's sleeping, pale form, hoping he would wake up again, even if it was for just the same short period as yesterday. He needed to know if Antonio was still there. The consistent beeping of the heart monitor wasn't enough. He needed to see his son open his eyes—to speak. On the other hand, he had been keeping an eye on Adelita to make sure she did nothing… idiotic. He had been careless last night before they went home and had fallen asleep with Adelita still in the room. When he had startled himself awake, his wife was sleeping soundly in the other chair and Antonio seemed fine. Nothing appeared to be tampered with.

However, his son was paler than last night and his fever had spiked again. His heart rate was slower than before and there were dark circles staining around his eyes. He didn't want to go off spouting accusations without any sort of proof

The Spaniard sighed upon hearing his wife enter the room again.

"Are you hungry, Emilio? They're serving breakfast downstairs. You need to eat," she said, sounding all too chipper for his liking.

"No," he grunted, not even bothering to look up.

"But it's not healthy for you to starve yourself," the woman pouted. "I'm only trying to help."

"You've helped enough," Emilio's voice seeped with sarcasm.

"Honey, I know you're stressed out," Adelita moved behind her husband and massaged his shoulders. "But, believe me when I say this: it'll get better. I just know it. Antonio will be out of here before you even realize."

Emilio shrugged her hands off of him, "Don't, okay? I'm not in the mood."

"All right, whatever you say," she held her hands up in a placating gesture and sat down in the other chair, mumbling something as she looked out the window.

"Mrs. Carriedo?" the doctor stood in the center of the room, his look harder and colder than steel.

"Yes?" Adelita raised an eyebrow.

Two officers filed in the room and halted at the doctor's flanks with stony expressions. Adelita stared at the three new men in the room, her eyes clouded with suspicion.

"What's this all about, doctor?" she questioned. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Actually, yes. You see, Mrs. Carriedo, you seem to have misunderstood me when I said we'd be keeping a sharp eye out on Antonio," the doctor said.

"I fail to see how," she said.

"Come on, Mrs. Carriedo, use the intelligence that God blessed you with," the doctor's smile was demeaning. "You're a smart woman. You're trying to get a medical degree, correct? Use your head."

"If this is about me and my so-called condition then forget it. You have no proof that I've done anything you've accused me of," she crossed her arms and eyed the men confidently.

"Again, you're misunderstanding me. You see that camera?" the doctor pointed up to the corner of the room, drawing the attention of the two parents. "We've been using it to monitor Antonio for seizures or anything of the like—health reasons. But instead of seeing that, we managed to catch someone injecting a foreign substance into Antonio's IV. Bleach, to be specific."

Adelita showed no reaction whatsoever and kept her cold eyes on them.

"Wait, _bleach?"_ sapphire orbs widened.

"Rest assured, sir, we've already cleansed his system of it. He's safe. Now, if you would be so kind as to give me the syringe in your purse and follow these two gentlemen, they'll be taking you into custody. Mrs. Carriedo, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of your 15 year old son."

The two officers took Adelita by her arms and she struggled to free herself from their grip.

"Emilio! Don't just sit there, do something! You're not going to let them take me, are you?"

Emilio remained still and never made eye contact with his wife, "If it benefits the health of my son… then so be it. You were caught, Adelita. What can I possibly do?"

"You're my husband! You're supposed to help me!"

"And you're Antonio's mother. You're supposed to love and nourish him."

The woman stopped fighting at that point and simply let the two officers take her away. The doctor placed his hand on Emilio's shoulder, sensing how distraught the man was. Emilio did not bother to shake it off or even move. He just held his head in his hands, silent and mortified.

"There's no need to worry anymore. Your son is safe from her and he'll be out of here in no time. He's healing much faster than anticipated which is great. At this rate, he'll wake up in another day or so," the doctor offered a smile and exited the room.

Emilio studied Antonio's sleeping figure.

_Wake up soon, son. You're all I have at this point._

* * *

_June 25, 2008—_

_A lot has happened this past month, hell, this week even… more than I can possibly put down on paper and not sound completely insane. But… here it goes. I've got lots of catching up to do._

_I was… raped by a man who looked to be in his mid-40s. Describe the pain and humiliation? I wish there were enough words for it. To put it simply… it felt like I had been set on fire and ripped in two. There's really nothing I can—or will—say. Looking back at it now, no matter what I do, I can't take back what was taken away from me. I had plans—a future. Antonio was the only one I wanted to share it with._

_It took a long time to get over it but I'm doing better. There was a point where no one could touch me or even be within a mile radius without me freaking out. I've let a few select people come close but nothing more. I owe it all to Antonio for that. He helped me. Sure, my mother and brother tried to help but it wasn't the same. They're my family, my flesh and blood. Family is supposed to help one another. But Antonio, he isn't a relative of any sort. He actually cares._

_He… he loves me._

_And I love him._

_I probably sound like a love-struck idiot but right now, I could care less. Antonio means everything to me and I am willing to do anything to help him. He helped me see the good in life—that a happy ending does exist in this world if you're willing to fight for it. Well, I'm fighting for it. I'm fighting back for the first time in my life. My father no longer has any control of my life and death will be the only thing to silence me._

_Dad's gone. He went somewhere which is perfectly fine with me. He probably won't be coming back for some time. After the whole blaming me for my sister's death thing, he was pretty upset. I'm surprised that man has a soul. It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't bother to pack his shit and just left us. We were planning to leave soon anyway. Better for us._

_I went ahead and looked through the baby stuff again, just for curiosity's sake. I wonder what she would've looked like. Since supposedly I look like dad, would she have looked like Mom? I know Feliciano does. I can't help but wonder if life would be different had she lived. Would I still be treated the same or would I actually be a part of the family? Who's to say?_

_Right now, Antonio is in the hospital for ingesting sarin—a poison that attacks the nervous system. It was in low concentrations thankfully. Anymore and the results would've been… I try not to think about it. But just knowing that I was so close to losing him gives me reason to fear that there still is that chance he could leave this world even if the doctor said he was safe._

_There's no doubt in my mind Antonio's psycho mom did this to him. Antonio wasn't eating or drinking anything she gave to him so she had to go to extreme measures to get what she wanted. She must love the sight of Antonio in the hospital again and knowing that she's the one who caused it. She's fucking insane!_

_He's a fighter though and I know he'll get through this. We've been going to see Antonio every day this week and we're going to visit him in about five minutes or so—_

"Lovino! Are you ready to go?" Felisa called up the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm coming!" the teen tucked away his journal again, hoping he'd be able to get back to it soon and rushed down the stairs.

They arrived at the hospital in a matter of minutes and Lovino was the first one in front of Antonio's hospital room, knocking on the door rapidly and waiting impatiently. He raised an eyebrow when he didn't hear Emilio's voice telling him it was okay to go in. The man hardly left Antonio's side. What was going on?

"Hello?" the Italian opened the door and slipped inside. "Anyone here?"

He was met by the sounds of the heart monitor and nothing more. Lovino went further into the room only to find it empty of Emilio's presence. How odd. Emilio was usually in here, watching Antonio or sleeping in one of the chairs.

_He might be in the bathroom, _Lovino figured.

But that didn't explain Adelita's absence either. The woman should've been in here, dramatically expressing desperate love and affection for her only son to anyone who would listen. He was surprised the whole family hadn't shown up yet feeling sorry for them.

"Everything okay, _fratello?" _Feliciano asked, standing behind him.

"I guess. Antonio's dad isn't here though. I wonder where he went," Lovino replied, sitting in the chair nearest to Antonio. The Italian placed his hand on his lover's, noting how much lighter his complexion was. It was almost perfectly matched to his own.

"He probably went to the cafeteria to eat something," Feliciano guessed.

"No, we passed the cafeteria on the way up here. He wasn't there," Lovino shook his head.

"Then he might be in the bathroom," the younger said.

The teen gave a light shrug at that, suffice with such an explanation. He couldn't help but feel just the smallest ounce of worry drip into him.

"Hey, what're you two doing? I don't think you're supposed to be in here. The doctor said no one can come in," a nurse stood in the doorway, clipboard held tightly against her chest.

"Don't worry, nurse, it's all right. They're authorized," the doctor smiled and entered the room, giving the young nurse orders to take care of another patient.

"How is he doing?" Lovino asked.

"He could be better. Last night, his mother was caught injecting bleach into his IV. She's been taken into custody for attempted murder. He's making a remarkable recovery, however, so he'll be awake very soon," he continued to smile. "Like I told Mr. Carriedo, there is no need to worry anymore. She can no longer hurt him."

"Thank goodness!" Feliciano placed a hand over his heart in relief.

She had finally been arrested?

As awful as it sounded, this was great! Antonio would no longer have to stand on death's door, ringing the doorbell or knocking, and running away just as it was about to be answered. Everything would be all right in the end! The nightmare was almost over!

"Is your mother here?" the doctor wondered.

"No, she had to run a few errands but she'll be back. I hope that's okay," Feliciano replied.

"That's fine; just stay in the room, okay? No wandering the halls unless you're with a parent," the man exited the room to tend to other patients on the same floor.

"Yes sir!" Feliciano grinned. "We'll stay right here!"

Lovino kissed Antonio's hand, "You hear that, Toni? Your mom can't hurt you anymore. You're safe. You're going to be healthier than ever before. So you wake up and we'll get the hell out of here. All of us. We'll get plane tickets and just go. I don't care where but we're leaving this dump."

"So he's really going to help us?" Feliciano asked. "He's… they're really going to get us out of here?"

"Of course they are. Antonio gave me his word. He never goes back on a promise."

"Do you think he'll wake up before Father gets home?"

"He's got to. There's no other way. He'll kill us if not."

"It'll be all right, _fratello. _Everything will work out," Feliciano offered a smile.

"How do you know, Feli?" Lovino questioned. "How can you be so sure of yourself all the time?"

"Because even though things may seem awful and all is lost, faith remains. It'll never leave for as long as you decide it to stay. I have faith in a happy ending—and we're going to get one. If we keep fighting for it, we'll get it. _You're_ a fighter. It's in your blood."

Outside, he paced and paced and paced. He ran a hand through his thick curly hair. His cerulean eyes were dark with worry. What was he going to do? Now that Adelita had been arrested, they would go to court and everything would be a huge jumbled legal mess. He didn't have the time or patience for this! Emilio didn't know what to do. He was at the end of his rope of here!

Why did any of this have to happen?

_Why!_

Why did they have to suffer for Adelita's crimes?

How hadn't he seen it before? He was Antonio's father! He was supposed to guide and protect him! But so far, all he's done is let his son down. Antonio probably hated him no matter how much the teen would smile and act as if everything was okay; because that's what it was: an act. All Emilio ever wanted was to be the best father he could ever be to Antonio and had so far been failing miserably in that endeavor.

Could he rebuild what had been destroyed? Could he stitch the wounds?

With nothing left going for himself, Emilio left the hospital entirely.

. . .

"_Fratello, come on! Come on!" six-year-old Feliciano tugged on his brother's hand. "Momma says we gotta be back home before sundown! Let's go!"_

"_But Feliciano, I can't—" Lovino, now eight, started, resisting his brother's pull. If his father caught Feliciano holding his hand, it would be the death of him._

"_Of course you can! We never get to play together, fratello!" the younger grinned. "Papa got me a new wagon so we can go exploring! Come on!"_

"_Feli—" Lovino was interrupted again._

"_There's nothing wrong with going outside and playing, fratello! Come on!"_

_The duo was at the front door in a matter of minutes, Feliciano talking rapidly and Lovino trying to contest the younger's pleas._

"_Boys, what're you doing?" Felisa asked from the kitchen._

"_We're going exploring, Momma! Can we go? Please?" Feliciano begged. "I wanna use my brand new wagon that Papa got me!"_

"_Feliciano, I don't know…" she said._

"_Please, Momma! We'll be really careful! I never ever get to play with fratello!" Feliciano implored, his bright eyes shining with innocence._

"_Well… I suppose since your father's out on a business trip, it'll be okay. Just be back before sundown, all right?" Felisa smiled._

"_Sure thing, Mom! We'll be back!" Feliciano threw her his trademark grin and the brothers were outside in seconds flat, pulling out the vibrant red wagon from the garage. "We're gonna have so much fun, right, Lovino? It'll be great!"_

"_Yeah…" the six-year-old nodded, still uncertain about this whole adventure._

_It had been two years since the incident with his father and the brothers weren't given the true opportunity to play together. It had mostly resorted to late-nights and trying to keep quiet while telling ghost stories. They weren't allowed within a 20 foot radius without supervision until then._

"_Fratello?" Feliciano derailed Lovino's train of thought._

"_Yeah? What is it?" Lovino pulled the wagon along while Feliciano pushed from the back._

"_Why doesn't Papa let us play together when he's home? Why do we have to wait until he leaves or when we have to go to bed?" the latter wondered._

"_I… I don't know, Feli. I can't read minds," Lovino spat but Feliciano paid no heed. "We just have to do what Dad says and move on. You know how he is when we ask questions—or when I ask questions."_

"_Why does he hit you, fratello? It makes me sad when he does. He says you're a bad person but you're not bad, are you fratello? I don't think you are. You're a very nice person," Feliciano said._

"_You seem to be the only one who thinks so, Feli…" Lovino sighed._

"_Momma thinks you're a nice person, too, fratello! I know she does! She loves you very much!"_

_Lovino just stared at his naïve younger brother, wishing that he would remain that way for as long as possible. He didn't need to know the truth—hell, Lovino didn't even know the whole reason behind it. All he knew was that his father hated him with every fiber of his being._

. . .

Fingers caressed his dark brown locks like an angel's kiss, playing with random silky strands. He had yearned for this. It had been far too long. The back of his hand ghosted over perfectly tanned skin and he smiled at the light flush in the other's cheeks. All that was missing were those beautiful green eyes he admired. There was nothing else he desired more.

"Lovi," the name was whispered sweetly. _"Querido, _wake up."

Eyes fluttered open slowly, focusing on the room before looking around and settling on a pair of a much lighter hue than their own. Lovino took a moment to assess the situation and the person in the hospital bed: pallid tan skin, dark circles surrounding breathtakingly vivacious eyes, and a bright smile that rivaled the sun itself.

Those features belonged to one person and one person only…

"Antonio?" Lovino murmured incredulously, not believing what his eyes were seeing.

"You know it," Antonio winked.

A thick lump formed in Lovino's throat and tears pricked his eyes but instead of crying, the Italian grabbed Antonio's shoulders and shook the latter wearily with his hands fisted in the hospital gown.

"You stupid imbecile! Do you have any idea how worried I was? Do you! I almost made myself sick!" Lovino kept his head down so the Spaniard wouldn't see his humiliating tears.

"_Lo siento, mi amor. _I didn't mean to worry you," Antonio proposed a nervous smile, and gently lifted Lovino's head with his hand to get the Italian to look at him.

"You—you can't ever do that again…! I… I thought I lost you!" Lovino brought Antonio into a tight hug, hiding his face in the crook of the Spanish teen's neck.

"I promised I would never leave until you told me to and I intend to keep that promise. You do believe me, don't you?" Antonio's smile was now assuring and possibly one of the most beautiful smiles Lovino had ever seen from him.

"I do believe you…" the Italian nodded.

Slowly but surely, Antonio leaned in and tenderly pressed his mouth to Lovino's, and his hands gently embraced the teen's head in place. Once getting over the initial shock from the sudden act of affection, Lovino parted his lips and tilted his head to intensify the contact, thoroughly surprising Antonio with such a response. Their hearts soared with each other at that moment, not caring if anyone walked in on them or if anyone objected to their relationship.

They were in love.

What more was there to say?


	17. Chapter 16

**What's up, guys? I got this chapter out mighty quick considering how I'm feeling. I have another sinus infection. I get them every year. It never fails. Anywho, thank you all for the tremendous support you are giving this story. I know I don't respond to reviews often (or at all) but know that I read and cherish every one of them thus giving me the motivation to update as quickly as I do. So... *deep breath* THANK YOU!**

**One other thing, I wanna give a huge shout out to my friend turtle001. She has helped tremendously with this story, more than you all know. She has helped me push through my writer's block so many times by giving ideas, I've lost count. Not everything in this story belongs to yours truly. So without further ado: THANK YOU TURTLE!**

**You all may hate me again and it's understandable if you do /shot.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language, violence, mental illnesses, sexual references/themes.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

When the need for air arose, the duo parted reluctantly, having to quell the arousal built between them from just that one heated kiss. Eyes of different hues, reflecting the love and yearning they contained with hints of lust, stared at each other. Antonio studies the face still gently held in his hands, searching for any sort of flicker in the flushed expression. Lovino broke eye contact for the slightest second, feeling his eyes glaze over with moisture but the lightly calloused thumbs of the Spaniard eradicated them before even a single tear could spill over.

Antonio placed a chaste kiss on Lovino's brow and chills of pleasure rippled throughout Lovino's lithe body. He played with the short brown locks at the nape of Lovino's neck, smiling at the Italian.

"I missed you a lot, you know," Antonio said, tucking a piece of Lovino's hair behind his ear. "I love you."

"I—I love you, too," Lovino muttered.

Antonio grinned and touched his forehead to Lovino's softly while the latter's cheeks were airbrushed a dark crimson. They enjoyed the comfortable silence at that moment, neither really wanting to break it with words that didn't need to be spoken. Why shatter something so perfect with unnecessary words to convey feelings they already knew were present? The older teen's slightly larger hands moved from the Italian's face to his shoulders.

A quiet knock at the door drew their attention and Felisa poked her head through the door.

"Lovi—oh! Antonio! You're awake!" she stepped further into the room, smiling brightly. "This… this is wonderful! How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling better, Mrs. Vargas, thank you. How have you been doing?" Antonio grinned, one hand still warmly resting on Lovino's shoulder.

"Hmm, can't complain," her smile dimmed a little. "I'll get the doctor, all right? Hang on for just a minute. Your brother is on his way up here, Lovino. He invited a friend and says you both know him. I can't remember his name for the life of me. Lud-something. It's German."

"Ludwig," Antonio and Lovino replied in unison.

"Ludwig! That's it! Feliciano's told me a dozen times and I still can't remember. Curse me and my terrible memory. I'm getting too old," Felisa's feigned smile turned genuine. It had been quite some time since Lovino had seen such a smile.

"Nonsense, Mrs. Vargas!" Antonio grinned. "You don't look a day over 20!"

"Antonio, you're too funny," the mother giggled.

"You're such a kiss-ass," Lovino said quietly.

Antonio grinned and Felisa watched the two interact for a moment with a fond gleam in her eyes. Lovino glanced back at his mother, raising an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"You two are so cute together. It's like your destiny was just written in the stars or you know, the little red string wrapped around both your pinkies," she giggled while holding her pinkie finger up and Lovino turned as red as the ripe tomatoes that grew in their garden.

"_MOM!"_

"What, I can't help the fact that you two were practically meant for each other," Felisa hurried away with another cheerful giggle.

"My God, that was so embarrassing," Lovino grumbled.

"I thought it was funny, Lovi! Your mom is so hilarious!" Antonio couldn't help the minor chuckles from escaping past his lips.

"Well, yeah, of course _you _think so! She's so damn poetic sometimes."

Antonio laughed heartily and it was a sound Lovino sorely missed. It was a little dry—raspy—as opposed to the rich one he had weeks ago. It didn't matter, nonetheless. He missed everything about Antonio in the short time the Spaniard was unconscious. But to the younger teen, it felt like forever. Each tick of the clock was a decade passing by.

A strong coughing fit took over Antonio all too soon and interrupted such a joyful sound. He covered his mouth with his hands and fought to compose himself. Lovino placed his hand on Antonio's back with concern shining in his eyes, asking if he was okay.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Antonio said finally, smiling weakly. "Don't worry about me."

"But I _do _worry, you idiot! You shouldn't stupid things like that!" Lovino crossed his arms and sat back in his seat with aggravation.

"You're so cute when you're annoyed, Lovinito~!" Antonio teased, poking Lovino's cheek.

All the color rushed to Lovino's face and he slapped the other's finger away, "I am NOT cute, tomato-jerk! Stop staying stupid things!"

"Aww, Lovi, be nice~!" the Spaniard continued to joke and Lovino retaliated with a string of curses in Italian which were rather ineffective.

That is, until Antonio grew oddly serious and this caused Lovino to believe he had offended the Spaniard somehow. He was about to ask but Antonio had something else on his mind.

"Lovi, where are my parents? They're here, aren't they?"

"Um, well, your dad is… I think. We thought he was in the bathroom but it's been a while. I'm sure he went outside to get some fresh air or something. Hospitals aren't exactly a positive environment," Lovino replied.

"…and my mom?" Antonio was almost afraid to ask.

"She, uh… she got arrested early this morning."

"Arrested?"

"Yeah; she was caught injecting bleach into your IV last night. The doctor already got it out of your body so you're going to be okay," Lovino explained.

Antonio was honestly rendered speechless. After all this time… she was gone? After all these years, she would finally leave him alone?

No more shots?

No more hospitals?

No more medication?

No more… fear?

An overbearing weight Antonio didn't even know was there was suddenly lifted off of him and carried away, transforming into a flood of much needed relief. The nightmare was over! It was all over! He loved his mom, don't get him wrong. She was just… psycho—for lack of better word. Now he had the rest of his time to truly focus on getting Lovino and his family out of here. His dad had already agreed to buy plane tickets for them so that was already settled. All that was left to figure out was the destination and when they were leaving.

"…Toni. Antonio!"

"Huh?"

"Are you okay? You spaced out for a while there," Lovino said.

"Y-Yeah. I'm good—better than I have been in a long time. As long as I have you," Antonio took Lovino's hands in his and kissed the latter's fingers softly.

Lovino blushed, "You're such a sap."

"It's true, though."

"Knock-knock," a chipper voice from the slightly ajar door and the duo recognized the owner immediately. "We're coming in~"

Feliciano and his taller blonde companion came in, and the shorter teen's eyes sparkled upon seeing Antonio and he sprinted over to the Spaniard.

"Antonio, you're awake! It's great to see you again! I think I can speak for my _fratello_ when I say he missed you so much! He really loves you a lot, you know! I could tell when there wasn't a moment when he wasn't thinking about you—"

"Would you shut your mouth already? You talk to damn much!" Lovino smacked his brother on the head and the latter cried out.

"Ow, _fratello! _Why do you have to be so mean to me? That really hurt!" Feliciano rubbed the area throbbing lightly.

"I barely even tapped you," Lovino rolled his eyes.

"No, you hit me!"

"I did not hit you. I simply high-fived that big ass head of yours."

"You're so mean!" Feliciano whined.

"How are you feeling, Antonio?" Ludwig asked over the bantering of the Vargas brothers.

"I'm feeling better, actually, thanks for asking," was the reply.

Ludwig nodded in acknowledgement.

"Anyway, what're you doing here, potato-bastard? Who the hell said it was okay for you stop by?" Lovino directed a glare at the German.

"Feliciano asked and your mother was kind enough to pick me up," Ludwig replied nonchalantly.

"Yeah, yeah, just stay away from my brother, okay?"

"_Fratello, _be nice to Ludwig! He's done nothing wrong! I really, really like him!" Feliciano took Ludwig's hand in his.

Lovino rolled his eyes again in exasperation. It was then that he felt Antonio kiss his head and he looked up at the Spaniard in confusion but was met with an innocent smile. Lovino decided to enjoy these moments while they lasted. Because, after all, they never lasted.

* * *

Emilio had been sitting in the bar for a while now, dismissing waiters and waitresses constant questioning if he wanted a drink or not. He thought about it, ordering a drink. But he wasn't going to let himself stoop that low. He was never a fan of the stuff anyway. It was Wednesday afternoon so business was very slow. No one really stopped by unless they were terribly stressed out—like he was.

What was he going to do?

How was he going to do it?

Financial payments. Legal matters.

The hospital bill right now must've been through the roof and there were still those last medical bills to pay off as well! It would eat right into the money they had saved to send Antonio to college. He didn't want to resort to that but what else could he do? They had used up the money in the bank down to where they could only provide for themselves efficiently.

Where had those innocent days gone? What happened to his loving and caring wife? What happened to his son's radiant smile? Why did they have to disappear? His family was falling apart at the seams… and he was going to have to be the one single thread to try and sew them back together. It was such a short, thin thread. Would it go the distance? Would the stitch hold?

Emilio put his head on the table, hiding his face from the world and hoping to drown out his dilemmas.

. . .

"_Damiano!" Emilio called, running over to his best friend who was talking to a group of kids on the playground during recess._

_It was a week into the school year and the young Carriedo boy carried himself with a newfound pride but was still very anxious around other people he didn't know—and Damiano was constantly surrounded by strangers. So he had to swallow his social awkwardness and keep going. Emilio couldn't help but constantly wish he could be more like his Italian friend. He was so popular and very opinionated. No one seemed to mind though. Instead, they admired him, like he was some kind of idol. He hadn't known these students for more than a week yet he had more friends than the boy who had known them all since primary school._

_Upon hearing his name, Damiano turned around, greeting his friend with a wave. Emilio waved back with a chipper smile—that is, until he tripped over his own two feet and landed flat on his face into the dirt. The kids surrounding them burst into laughter and Emilio immediately wanted to crawl back into his protective shell of isolation. He knew he shouldn't be getting his hopes up. There was no way he would ever fit in with the other kids at this school. Why did he even bother trying?_

_The young Spanish boy pushed himself off the ground and to his knees with his head held low, making sure his bangs hid his flushed face. The tears of embarrassment were dangerously close to falling and if he cried in front of them, he'd never be able to live it down. He made sure to sniffle inaudibly and tried not shake too much._

"_Leave him alone! What's he ever done to you?" Damiano helped Emilio to his feet and his shouting quieted the jeering._

"_Please don't tell me your friends with him," one of Damiano's new friends said._

"_And if I am?" Damiano raised an eyebrow._

"_It's just he's so… so… weird!"_

"_Well then I guess that makes me weird, too," Damiano raised an eyebrow._

_Emilio couldn't stop his eyes from widening in shock. Damiano was… defending him? Why? Why was he fussing over someone like him?_

"_No, not at all! You're cool! It's him who's not! He can't be friends with us."_

"_Then you just lost another one," Damiano turned his back on the other boy. "Come on, Emilio. I'll take you to the nurse to get your arm cleaned up."_

_The younger of the two glanced at the cut on his arm. He hadn't even felt that. The Italian led Emilio away from the group and towards the school, a pregnant silence settling over them. It wasn't until they were in the building did Emilio speak._

"_W-Why did you do that?" his voice had reverted back to its original softness and stuttering. His eyes remained downcast, too nervous to look at his friend._

"_Do what?" the Italian questioned._

"_D-D-Defend me… you… you didn't have to do that," Emilio placed his hand over his cut to stop the bleeding. "I-I would've been fine on m-my own…"_

"_You're my best friend. I wouldn't ditch you for them. Yeah, I'm a jerk sometimes but I'm not a total asshole," Damiano put his hand on Emilio's shoulder to stop their walk._

_Emilio stared through his thick curls, "B-But, you had so many friends… and y-you left them for m-me?"_

"_I told you, I would never do that to you. I'd rather have four quarters than 100 pennies."_

_Emilio nodded, understanding the metaphor. After waiting for so long, he had finally found a worthwhile friend. He never thought it possible, but… it had happened. He just hoped it would stay this way._

* * *

"All right, Antonio, everything seems to be in order. You're stable but I'd like for you to stay at least another two days just to be certain. I'm going to applaud you though—you're a fighter. You're doing much better than I thought you would," the doctor smiled as the nurse beside him jotted something on the clipboard.

Antonio grinned, "You won't be the first person to tell me that."

The practitioner chuckled, "So when should be expecting your father to return?"

"Oh, uh, I don't know. I have no idea where he went," the Spaniard shrugged, his expression becoming gloomy. "Have you tried calling him?"

"Yes but he isn't answering his cellphone," the doctor replied.

The room grew heavy with apprehension and barbells rested on the others' shoulders.

"Where could he possibly be? I didn't expect him to be gone this long or I would've left to look for him," Felisa said, splintering the quiet.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's been under a lot of stress as of late so he probably went to get some fresh air. It's understandable," the doctor attempted to disarm the group with a charming smile. "I'll tell him the good news if I happen to run into him but other than that, it is your liberty."

The two medical practitioners exited the room, bidding a final farewell. Everyone turned to Antonio then, scrutinizing the teen's face.

"Toni? You okay?" Feliciano asked.

"Yeah. I just… hope my dad's okay. I know he's an adult and all but it's not normal for him to act like this. I guess I'm just being a worry wart," Antonio let out a small nervous laugh.

"You have every right to be worried, Antonio. But I'm sure he'll be back before you know it," Felisa said. "I'll call him if you want me to."

"That'd be great," Antonio struggled to keep that smile on his face. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Felisa retreated to the far corner of the room, cellphone in hand and was soon dialing Emilio's number after it being given by Antonio.

Lovino placed his warm hand on Antonio's forearm, shooting his lover a comforting gaze. The latter responded with placing a hand atop Lovino's but didn't look at him.

"He's all I have right now, Lovi," Antonio murmured. "I can't lose him."

"It'll be okay, Antonio," the Italian replied. "He hasn't been missing for days—maybe just an hour or two. Remember what the doctor said. He's under tons of stress."

"Yeah I get that, but he's never just up and left before, no matter how stressful things were. He's always stuck around. He's the type of man who wouldn't just leave a problem hanging and go off somewhere to cool down. He'd deal with it right then and there. This isn't like him. Try to understand."

"I do understand," Lovino nodded subtly.

"My mother's arrest must've hit him hard. I know she's crazy but he still loves her. That is his wife."

"I doubt it was just that. Knowing she tried to kill you had to have been part of it," Lovino added.

"Yeah, that, too… I just—I don't know. I'm probably overreacting."

"No, you're not."

"He didn't answer," Felisa slipped her phone back in her purse.

"Thanks for trying, Mrs. Vargas," Antonio said.

"It was no trouble. And please, call me Felisa. After all, I see you and Lovino being together for a very long time so there's no need for formalities," she grinned.

All the color rushed to Lovino's face again and left his cheeks burning, "M-Mom!"

"Sweetie, you know I'm just teasing you~ but I'm dead serious about the being together part. I know you two are meant for each other just like Feliciano and Ludwig are. All four of you are so cute together!" Felisa crooned, clapping her hands lightly in excitement.

"So you don't have a problem with me, you know… liking another guy?" Lovino asked, mumbling the last part.

"Honey, I don't care who you fall in love with as long as you are happy and they treat you right," Felisa placed a kiss on her eldest son's head.

"Mom! I'm 14 years old, not five! You gotta stop doing that!" Lovino tried dodging the act of affection but to no avail.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, you're just growing up way too fast for me," the woman tittered. "I remember when you still a little baby taking his first steps! You fell down so much!"

Everyone in the room except Ludwig (who chuckled quietly) and Lovino laughed while the latter fumed. As embarrassing as this was, it was all an attempt to lighten the mood and all of them appreciated it. None of them thrived in such a cold atmosphere and it was time to let the sun dapple through the curtains. During their entertainment, no one noticed the Spanish man enter the room for he stood in the very back, watching them all, waiting for it to settle.

Ludwig, being the observant creature he was, noticed his presence far earlier than the others and his greeting to the young man interrupted the mirth vibrantly bouncing about the room. All eyes focused in on Emilio and the man shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, still not fond of being the center of attention.

Lovino never had the chance to truly meet his lover's father but he had always wanted to. The way Antonio talked about him, he seemed nice enough and Antonio clearly looked up to him. Antonio definitely favored his father; the two could almost pass off as brothers if it weren't for the slight interference of Adelita's features on Antonio's face. Both had curly hair only Antonio's was closer to the shade of his mother's and the same complexion. The only major difference was their eyes.

Green and blue.

Earth and sky.

Emerald and sapphire.

Lovino could see the same inferno dwelled within both pairs, even if Emilio's wasn't as bright. There was still a spark, a tiny flame, which characterized a fiery personality that lay dormant.

"Dad, where have you been? We were worried about you!" Antonio's voice tore Lovino from his thoughts.

"I went for a walk, nothing more. I apologize for worrying you all. It wasn't my intention," Emilio replied, meeting his son's gaze.

"Give a heads up next time, will you?" Antonio had yet to completely overcome his anxiety for hospitals. If Lovino and the others weren't in the room when he woke up, he might've flipped his lid. It would've been deemed unhealthy, especially in his condition.

"Yeah. Sure," the Spaniard nodded, his voice trailing into monotone.

"Dad, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Antonio questioned.

"No, not really," Emilio's tone had a sharpened edge to it now.

"Come on, boys. They need to talk," Felisa ushered the teens out of the room.

Lovino spared one last glance at the bedridden Spaniard and broke his gaze when he received a reassuring nod from Antonio and the door shut with a soft _'click.' _Lovino decided to wait patiently. But then again, patience was never one of his strong points.

The Italian teen walked up to the door and placed his hands on it, only pressing his ear to the wooden entrance. He hissed at his brother to stay quiet so he could hear.

"What's this all about, Dad? What's gotten into you?" Antonio wondered, genuinely concerned for his father's odd behavior.

"Nothing for you to worry about. I just wanted to talk about the question you asked me the other day—the one if we could buy plane tickets for the Vargas family," Emilio took the seat Lovino had once been occupying.

"What about it?" Antonio didn't like where this was going.

"I won't be able to get the tickets for them."

"What? Why?" the teen demanded, not caring if his shout was heard by the others.

"Keep your voice down. I don't want them hearing," Emilio growled. "Look, we simply do not have the money to buy three plane tickets to get out of Italy."

"Actually it would've been four."

"What do you mean?"

"Lovino wants me to go with them. He doesn't want to leave me behind. If I don't go, he doesn't go. When I brought you up, he said you could come along, too. He just wants me to be there," the son explained.

"Then it's definitely a no."

"Dad, you don't understand!"

"No, son, _you _don't understand what you're asking of me here. After we get done paying all the medical bills, we still have to have enough money to support ourselves which we won't have if we buy them three plane tickets. You don't understand how much they cost," Emilio kept his voice very low, hinting to Antonio that he was not happy in the least.

Antonio held his head in his heads, distressed and pleading for his father to understand the magnitude of the situation here.

"They'll die if they don't get out of here. He'll kill them," Antonio spoke through shuddering tones.

Emilio sighed, "I'm sorry. But there's nothing we can do for them."

Lovino slowly backed away from the door, finding himself trying to swallow the large lump in his throat.

They were doomed.


	18. Chapter 17

**Gah. I don't even know what to call this piece of crap. It escalates between what I consider adequate and below par because that's how my mood was. I would be in the mood to write and then it would be gone the second I started. Plus, I'm still not entirely on a clean bill of health yet so that's another reason. I am sincerely sorry for that. I hope you can come to forgive me. I stayed up extra late today knowing that I had to push through my moodiness (and headache) to finish this chapter which by the way is the second to last chapter before the epilogue. So yup, Chapter Eighteen will be the last true chapter and then we'll have ourselves an epilogue.**

**FYI, this chapter moves fast and that was my intention.**

**This is where ALL the shit hits the fan.**

**This is good, yes? /shot.**

**I'm going to bed now. I'm flippin' tired.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language, abuse, mental illnesses, death.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

Antonio was left alone in the room after the discussion and the unforgiving silence wasn't his companion for long. The door opened gently but Antonio didn't even bother to look up. He knew who it was. The visitor sat on the edge of the bed, saying nothing as they caused a minute depression in the uncomfortable mattress. Forest green eyes studied the Spanish teen's trembling form at the moment. There was no contempt in these beautiful eyes nor was there much of an emotional window. What were they supposed to convey to the other pair of eyes that did not meet them? Hatred? Desperation? Confusion? Though the third option was highly probable, there was only one light in those eyes—the beacon of understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Lovino… I'm just so sorry…!" Antonio's voice shuddered horribly, making it difficult to know what was being said.

Lovino simply put his hand on Antonio's shoulder and the latter looked up, gazing on with moist eyes. Forest and emerald's stare was unbreakable until the older teen leaned forward and placed his head on the Italian's shoulder and it wasn't long before warm tears dampened Lovino's shirt. The younger teen rested his hand on the back of Antonio's head, running his lithe fingers through the thick curls.

"We'll find a way to get out of here. Count on it."

Antonio fisted Lovino's shirt tightly, nodding at what was being said.

"We'll be all right. Don't worry about us. Just focus on getting better. I don't want you stuck in this hospital any more than you want to be."

"But… he said…"

"I know what he said. I know. There's nothing we can do about it," Lovino wondered if this sounded too harsh but Antonio needed to hear it. There was no other way to get through. And it wasn't only Antonio that needed convincing. It was Lovino, too. "Everything will be all right. We've survived this long. Another few days won't make a difference."

"It will, Lovino! It will make a difference! I can't stand the fact that I'm not able to help you like I promised!"

"Antonio—"

"No, Lovi! No! I'd rather you and your family be thousands of miles away safe and sound than here where you can be hurt or worse!" Antonio distraughtly grabbed Lovino's shoulders, sobbing quietly. "I won't allow that to happen, okay? I can't just... sit on the sidelines and watch you suffer. I just can't—!"

"I know, I know," Lovino stroked Antonio's hair, offering what comfort he could since this wasn't really his area of expertise. "We'll figure something out. This isn't the end, I promise you. For now, let's focus on getting better and getting out of here. One thing at a time, okay?"

Antonio lifted his head and nodded. He attempted a smile but Lovino could see right through it as he wiped away Antonio's tears.

"No more crying. A smile looks better on you."

And that's when Antonio really let his grin shine.

"See what I mean?"

"But let's see your smile!" Antonio pinched Lovino's cheeks and pulled to where a smile was formed. "There we go! Much better! You should smile more often!"

"Let go, you jerk!" Lovino fought in Antonio's grip, his face stained red.

"Aww, but Lovi~! You're so cute!"

"I am NOT cute! Quit saying stupid shit like that!"

"We really have to mind what you read and watch on TV now, don't we, Lovi? Such colorful language! Like a rainbow!" Antonio chuckled.

Lovino didn't even know what to say to that and just sat there with his mouth agape and Antonio's laugh filled the room once again.

* * *

Antonio was released from the hospital three days later with a clean bill of health except for the doctor's request to have an eye kept on him. Damiano had yet to return home and a sort of false sense of peace settled over the rest of the Vargas family. They knew at any moment that man could come storming in having God knows what planned. They were going to revel in this peace for as long as it lasted.

"Don't hesitate to give us a call if you need anything. We're right next door," Felisa said as the two families were parting ways.

"Will do. Thank you," Emilio nodded.

"We'll see you guys later," Antonio waved, winking at Lovino soon afterwards.

The Italian blushed profusely and crossed his arms with a huff, breaking his gaze away from Antonio. He then decided to pipe into the conversation Feliciano and Ludwig were having. Antonio chuckled at Lovino's coyness. His _querido _was just too cute sometimes! Emilio caught the duo's interaction, questioning it for a few seconds before dropping it completely.

They parted ways after that, bidding final farewells. There were two different silences that settled over both parties, the Vargas' being serene while the Carriedo's was… heavy—like two ton barbells were resting on their shoulders. The two weren't saying a single word to one another, too wrapped up in the upset of the situation they were in. Emilio glanced at his brooding son in the passenger seat. The Spanish teen stared at the buildings and pedestrians blurring by, doing anything to refrain speaking to his dad. He didn't even look in the man's direction.

Emilio sighed inaudibly. He was supposed to be the thread that sewed his family back together. He was supposed to be supporting his son, not pushing him away. Right now, he was tearing the weak and ruined tapestry strand by strand, watching it fall apart.

"Antonio," the man began after a long drive. "Please try to understand that I'm not doing this intentionally. I wasn't trying to hurt you in any way, I hope you realize that. I know you're mad at me but it is up to me now to take care of you. I have to make sure that you are provided for sufficiently. And I wouldn't be able to do that if I bought those plane tickets. If only you knew the bind your mother put us in financially. I won't allow us to hit rock bottom. You're my son and I love you too much for that to happen."

"I love him, Dad."

Emilio almost immediately hit the brakes upon pulling into their driveway at home. Wait, what? What did Antonio just say? Had he heard right? By the way Antonio still wasn't looking at him and stared at his hands folded in his lap, Emilio assumed so. The man parked the car and turned off the engine, watching his son, absolutely thunderstruck.

"…what?" Emilio couldn't help his voice escape as nothing but an incredulous whisper.

"You heard me."

Antonio's gemstone eyes met his father's oceanic ones, diving deep into their watery depths, searching for any sign of disgust. However, there was none. None whatsoever. Instead, the older man placed his hand atop Antonio's head, mussing his already unkempt brunette curls.

Emilio's smile was soft, "I knew there was a reason as to why you were so happy. I just… didn't take the time to see it. He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

"More than you know."

"Well Antonio," Emilio removed his hand, keeping his smile. "I'm happy for you."

Emilio was about to exit the vehicle but was stopped when Antonio grabbed his arm, a confused look shining in his emerald eyes.

"You don't think it's weird, though? I mean, I like another guy. Most parents wouldn't be too thrilled about that…" Antonio trailed off.

"I'm not most parents. You deserve to be with that special someone just as much as anybody else does. Who am I to tell you who you can and can't love? That'd be… what's the word I'm looking for? _Inhumane_ of me," the man replied.

Antonio's famous smile revealed itself again, tired of hiding behind a frown.

"Oh! I almost forgot something. I know all about you sneaking off in the middle of the night and now I know it was to go see him."

The teen's eyes widened, "H-How did you find out?"

"You're not the most graceful person in the world," Emilio laughed, climbing out of the car with Antonio hot on his heels, stammering out an entire questionnaire about what else he knew.

* * *

She leaned against the cold stone wall, letting it cool her flushed face. She was no longer angry. She instead found herself annoyed and embarrassed with the fact that she had been caught. After so many years of the same routine, she slips and loses her footing.

"And this is where I end up," she mumbled aloud.

If she had just paid more attention, Antonio would still be lying in that hospital bed, sick as a dog. Knowing that she had lost… made her feel scared. She _was _scared. Terrified, even. She no longer mattered to her family and friends. No… Antonio would be receiving the love and affection she was deprived of for so many years!

It wasn't fair!

In the end, she would always lose!

What more was there left going for her?

First her family, then her friends… and now her husband and son were leaving, too. Emilio hadn't even tried to defend her when they were dragging her away. What kind of husband was he? They were supposed to help each other through thick and thin! That's the vow they made, right? To stay together for rich or for poor and sickness and in health…

Sickness…

…was she sick?

No… she couldn't be… could she?

Emilio had accused her of so…

…what was that word he also used?

It started with an "m"…

Murder, wasn't it? Was that the word?

Yes… it was. It rang a painfully familiar bell.

A murderer. That's what he called her. He blamed her for Antonio's illnesses. What sort of garbage was that? It made absolutely no sense at all! She wasn't some sort of twisted killer! She was only trying to help her son! That's all her intentions were!

"_Overdosing him on medication is not helping him! You'll kill him, don't you understand that! And then he'll be gone! We'll never have another child that could replace him! Never! There will only be one Antonio!"_

Emilio's words resonated strongly in her mind.

To kill Antonio… that was her scheme the entire time, wasn't it?

To end her son's life so she could receive love and affection?

What… what kind of mother was she?

He was the only child she was able to bring into this world. And here she was, trying to take him out. It had to stop. It all had to stop. She had to stop this from progressing any further! She had to stop herself! She wouldn't be able to look Antonio in the eye if she saw him again. She didn't deserve to and he didn't deserve such treatment.

Emilio was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She was supposed to love and nurture him. Not commit the crimes of deprivation her own family did. It wasn't fair to her son. Her one and only son…

Adelita removed her shoe and shook out the small item inside.

This should be enough to protect her family.

* * *

_Knock-knock._

"I'll get it!" Antonio rushed out of his room and sprinted down the stairs. He opened the door and took a step back upon seeing who the visitor was, a look of suspicion on his face. "May I help you, officer?"

"Yes, I, uh, need to speak with your father, _per favore," _the officer said. "It's rather urgent."

"Dad!" the teen called over his shoulder. "It's for you!"

"All right, no need to yell," Emilio now stood at the door, wearing the same guarded expression Antonio had. "Yes, officer? Is something wrong?"

"I apologize for visiting so late and unannounced but I need to speak with you about something important regarding your wife."

"All right. Uh, Toni, why don't you go on upstairs to your room?" Emilio glanced at his son.

"But Dad—"

"Don't argue with me, Antonio. Go upstairs. Now."

Antonio hesitated for a moment, exchanging looks with the police officer and his father.

"_Go. _I'm not going to ask you again."

The teen trudged back up the steps and he could feel his father's eyes on him until he disappeared behind his bedroom door. He then opened it just to where he would be able to hear the conversation, listening intently and hanging on every word that would be spoken.

Emilio turned back to the man at the door and sighed, "What happened?"

"She's committed suicide."

Antonio's breath hitched in his throat.

"I—hold on… _what?"_

"There wasn't a weapon of any kind used as far as we know. We're still trying to figure it all out."

Emilio swallowed thickly to control his shuddering voice, "W-When did it happen?"

"Earlier this evening. That's all I know. I am sorry for your loss…"

"Thank you," the father's tone fell back into the quiet it knew so well.

"Goodnight, Mr. Carriedo," the officer gave a subtle nod and left.

Emilio closed the door and sighed heavily, disappearing into the living room. Antonio, however, shut his door and leaned against it, sliding to the floor.

His mother was… dead? And by her own hand?

He would… he would never see her again. Ever. Five minutes was five years to him and there was the sound of the softest knock on his door.

"_Antonio?"_

"Go away!"

"_Toni, did you hear what—"_

"I said leave me alone! I want to be alone!"

The weight of the world suddenly came crashing down on the teen and he finally succumbed to the immense pressure.

* * *

_June 28__th__, 2008—_

_Antonio was __FINALLY__ released from the hospital today. I don't know how he managed to handle it. Hospitals creep me the hell out. I can only imagine what they do to him. Adelita was arrested as well so that's a bit of a reliever. It means Antonio's out of harm's way and he'll be able to live a healthy, normal life—a life he was meant to live from the very beginning._

_We aren't able to leave the country via plane. We're going to have to find another way out of here and it'll have to be transportation we can afford. We could always drive but I wonder if all of our savings would be enough for gas money. Another thing we're worried about is we don't know when he'll come home. He's been gone for so long we find ourselves forgetting he ever existed._

_If we keep this up, it'll be a fatal mistake. The moment he walks through that door, it'll be Hell all over again. And this time, I know it's not just for me. I can't help this horrible feeling I have. My stomach feels like it has been tied into thousands of tiny knots. I can't seem to shake it and it's driving me up a fucking wall. The last time I felt like this was when I… never mind. I'm sure it's just some bad reaction to the food I ate at the hospital for lunch. That shit was nasty._

_Regardless of my father, we have bags set aside for the time we're actually going to be able to leave because we never know when that time will come. I'm thinking it'll be tonight. My mom keeps running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, cleaning and doing random shit like that even though the house is spotless. She always does that when she's worrying about something._

_I just… I don't even know anymore._

_I do know one thing though: I'm ready to get the hell out of here._

Lovino placed his journal in his bag that was stuffed with his clothes and personal necessities. He glanced over his shoulder at Feliciano who was sleeping peacefully on his bed, curled up and holding tightly onto a pillow. He mumbled something in his sleep before turning over and settling again. The older of the two rolled his eyes in amusement and sifted through his bag to make sure everything was there.

"Boys!" Felisa called up the stairs. "Let's go! And hurry up! We're leaving tonight!"

Lovino had never moved so fast in his life as he hurried to wake his brother and grab his bag. The 12 year old was sluggish but did his best to understand was being said to him and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"You should've never fallen asleep, Feli, you idiot," Lovino scolded on his way down the stairs. "You know it takes you forever to wake up completely."

"I'm sorry, _fratello. _I was just so sleepy…" Feliciano yawned.

"Idiot," the teenager mumbled.

"You both ready?" Felisa asked and her sons nodded eagerly, ready to dash out the door. "My friend let us borrow her car. Now let's go before your father gets home."

The front door flew open and the trio jumped back, watching the looming figure standing in the doorjamb. That wicked smile was visible even in the dim lights of the room and a low, demonic chuckle was heard.

"Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear," he sneered.

Lovino stared at the knife glinting in his father's hand and it wasn't a second later before it was aimed at his beating heart.


	19. Chapter 18

**This chapter was a complete pain in my ass. I worked so hard on it and I hoped it shows. It's a school night so I gotta get to bed. Sadly we are nearing our final stop. After this, there is an epilogue and that's it. I cannot begin to express my immense gratitude for all of you showing your support. I never thought this story would get to this point and you all made it possible.**

**Thank you so very much!**

**One quick thing before I go, HeyMomaHey's fanart! It's amazing! I think it is, anyway. Check it out! Erase spaces. You know the drill. This is a Facebook link, by the way. **

**: / w w w. facebook /media/set/ ? set=a. 268687699902085. 50396. 100002825722062 & type=1**

**(The end of this chapter was greatly influenced by The Dance by Garth Brooks; I love that song)**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**WARNINGS: Language, violence, mental illnesses, sexual references/themes.**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

Lovino knew he wouldn't be fast enough to dodge his father's attack. The fear he thought had long since fled returned to devour him like a malnourished animal that found a scrap of meat. His breath was caught in his throat yet his heart was about to jump out of his ribcage and thundered like war drums in his ears. He had to move! He had to get out of the way!

_Damn it, Lovino! Move! _He scolded himself.

But his own terror kept him firmly in place. He shut his eyes, ready to embrace the pain as a friend he hadn't seen in years. Something blurred in front of him and it was only seconds until he heard the tearing of flesh and a blood dampened cough.

"_Mama!" _Feliciano cried as blood seeped through his mother's blouse.

Lovino's eyes were wide open.

His mother had… jumped in front of _him._

His mother had taken the blow… _for _him.

_After all these years, you can watch me from the background… Lovino. My son…_

"Boys, run…" she rasped, grabbing Damiano's wrist with both hands and refused to release him even as he fought in her grasp. "Go!"

"Let me go, you wench!" Damiano attempted to pry her hands off, surprised at her unknown strength.

Lovino stared at his mother agonizingly before seizing his frozen brother's hand, "Come on!"

"But _fratello!"_

"We have to go, Feli!"

_BANG!_

The wall nearest to them splintered as the bullet zipped past, barely grazing Lovino's face, making the duo stop dead in their tracks.

"You're not going anywhere," Damiano growled, now holding a smoking gun. "You're especially not taking my son with you!"

Feliciano squeezed Lovino's hand tightly and he found himself being dragged towards the back door by his brother. Damiano ripped the knife from Felisa's chest and pushed the injured woman to the floor, firing another two rounds, careful not to hit his youngest son.

"Aah!" came a familiar cry and the satisfying thud of a body hitting the floor. The sound of glass shattering came soon after but he paid no mind and rounded the corner to close in on his prey.

Lovino was on the floor, clutching his thigh as it bled profusely. Feliciano, too, had his hand over the wound, clearly panicking. The blood from Lovino's leg was pooling on the floor, sending a sickly warm feeling throughout the teen's body. It was only a matter of time before he would bleed to death. Lovino was gasping in pain through gritted teeth and lying amongst the clear shards of broken window. Damiano sighed and shook his head, displeased with himself. And here he thought his aim was getting better. At least he hit the kid. Killing him would be so much easier now.

Damiano prepared the gun for the next shot and aimed it at Lovino's head. Feliciano's eyes broadened and he jumped in front of the weapon, staring down the cold hollow barrel with unparalleled fierceness.

"Get out of the way, Feliciano. I don't want to hurt you," Damiano motioned to the side with his gun.

"Well then you're going to have to because I'm not moving! If you kill him, you'll have to kill me, too!" Feliciano held his fortified position in place, a snarl rumbling deep within his throat.

Damiano's eyes narrowed and at this, Lovino chuckled lowly, drawing both their attention. The teenager continued to laugh quietly and struggle to sit up as confusion settled in the room. The Italian's shoulders shook with his laughter when he sat up and the glass he moved with his hands and body left clear paths in the blood.

"_Fratello, _what's so—"

"You think this is a motherfucking game!" Damiano shouted, greatly frustrated.

Lovino smirked, "Yeah. Yeah we're playing games."

"You know I'm not a fan of games, boy. I always hate to lose," Damiano took a subtle step forward.

"Yeah…" Lovino fumbled with the new object in his left hand, "Me too!"

The teen shot to his feet and lodged the piece of glass into the side of Damiano's left knee and took off as fast as he could. The man let out a yell of pain and crumbled to the floor, toiling with the glass deep within his skin. Lovino joined Feliciano at their mother's side, trying to remain calm as his brother panicked. She was bleeding so much… and the wound was so deep. It had narrowly missed her heart.

"G-Get out of here, b-boys…" she began coughing and her shirt continued to darken in color.

"No, we're not leaving you!" Lovino assisted her in sitting up and put one of her arms around his shoulders. "Come on, Feliciano! Help me out here!"

The 12 year old took his mother's arm and followed Lovino's example. The two boys helped her to her feet and Lovino could feel more of the warm, thick liquid trail down his leg, making his khaki shorts stick to his skin.

"L-Lovino…" Felisa began, staring at her son weakly. "You're hurt…"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. We've got to get you out of here, Mom. Come on!"

"You son of a bitch!" Damiano struggled to gather his bearings and pull the trigger.

"You both have to go!" Felisa fought to corral her words.

"No! Not without you!" Feliciano protested.

Damiano yanked the glass from his leg with a yell and threw it to the side, getting to his knees soon after. Another shot was fired and Lovino felt it clip the hem of his shorts. Luckily it hadn't hit or he would be a goner. He was already losing too much blood.

"Leave my kids alone, Damiano!" Felisa shouted, standing in front of them in a defensive half-crouch.

"I'm not going to let you take Feliciano away from me. He is _my _son! And knowing your stubborn self, you won't let him go. So I have to get rid of you. Oh, and the piece of shit standing beside you as well."

"Papa, leave them alone!" Feliciano begged.

"I'm sorry, Feliciano, I can't do that. These two are nothing but thorns in our side that need to be removed. Even if they do let you go, how do I know they won't turn around and call the police and accuse me of kidnapping? You've got to think ahead in situations like these—well, those remotely close," Damiano smirked.

"You're psychotic!" Felisa spat.

"Be that as it may, I'm still coming out on top no matter what you do," the man had a wild gleam in his eyes.

"Lovino, take your brother and get out of here. Go get help. Don't stop until you do. I can hold him off," Felisa said.

Damiano openly laughed, "You think you can stop me?"

"I can try," Felisa growled.

"By all means try."

The brothers made another attempt for the front door as Felisa charged for Damiano but were stopped by another bullet whizzing by, forcing them into another part of the house. Lovino limped along, Feliciano in tow, desperately trying to find a hiding spot for his sibling. Their house was on the rather large side with dozens of places that would make for an interesting game of hide-and-seek. Finding the least obvious one was the tricky part.

"_Fratello, _in here!" Feliciano whispered, pointing towards a hall closet.

Greatly weakened, Lovino opened the door and allowed the younger boy in first. He was about to turn to leave when Feliciano grabbed his bloodied hand, begging Lovino to stay.

"You won't make it far with that leg," Feliciano tugged at his brother, his brow creasing in worry.

Lovino's eyes softened, "It's me he's after, not you. I'm going to lead him away from here then you go and get help. You're our only hope, Feli."

"_Fratello, _don't—"

"He'll follow my blood trail. I can't allow you to be hurt because of me. Just do as I say Feliciano," Lovino shut the door softly and glanced at his injured limb. His leg was throbbing violently and it felt as if a dull knife kept stabbing at it, trying to open the wound wider and burrow deeper.

The teen soaked his hand in some still fresh blood and traced it all along the walls and even pressed his palm against it to make a perfect red print. His vision began to swim by the time he found an adequate hiding spot in a guest room. He inspected the wound. It hadn't hit an artery, thankfully. The bleeding had stopped as well. Even better.

Lovino jumped at the sounds of his parents' brawl. He had to figure out a way to get all three of them out of the house and in one piece. But he didn't have time to devise a fool-proof plan! If he was going to come up with any set course of action, it would have to be the kind he pulled out of his ass, which could possibly result in a fatality. _His _fatality.

"Fuck it," Lovino grumbled and hurried for the door.

He had to distract Damiano so his mother could—

_BANG!_

…_thud._

"One down…" Damiano panted. "One to go."

* * *

Another clap of thunder rolled across the land and the animals of the thicket scurried into their homes. However, a figure underneath a looming tree didn't so much as budge. He sat there, waiting for the rain to come, waiting for the sky to weep with him even though his tears had long since dried. The clouds left him in perpetual darkness and a lone firefly danced about him, braving the impending storm to shine some light in his dull world.

"Are you trying to cheer me up, little guy?" he asked as it scuttled along his finger.

The firefly's abdomen flickered twice and it glowed brightly again.

"Thanks. I appreciate it. But you should probably get home to your family. I don't think you'd fare too well in this storm. Your family would miss you terribly," he let the firefly crawl along the tree's trunk and watched it for a moment before leaving it be.

"Look at me. Now I'm talking to bugs. Lovino would call me even more of an idiot."

Lovino.

. . .

"_Lovino?"_

"_Yeah? What is it?"_

"_Can I ask you a question?"_

"_Depends on what the question is."_

"_Do you, you know, ever think about kids? About starting a family?"_

"_Jeez, what is it with you and Feliciano asking about kids? It's not like we're 30 years old or something. We've got plenty of time to plan out that sort of crap!"_

"_I know," Antonio shrugged, staring at the grass. "I'm just curious."_

_Lovino sighed lightly and watched Antonio, the leaf dappled sunlight making the flecks of amber in his eyes glisten. "I'm not going to lie and say I haven't thought about it. I have at least twice. Mainly because I try to picture myself as the father I wanted to have from the very beginning. I don't think I'm cut out to be a parent though. I mean, I can hardly take care of myself sometimes."_

_Antonio chuckled, "Lovi, you are so silly."_

"_What makes you say that?" Lovino's eyes narrowed._

"_Because I mean," the older teen chuckled again, "everyone is cut out to be parent—if they want to be. We are all capable of loving just as much as we are capable of hating. The choices we make determine whether we are incompetent… or competent."_

"_That was deep," Lovino commented blandly._

_Antonio laughed, "I just wanted to sound smart for once."_

"_Yeah, well, you failed!"_

"_Aww, Lovi, don't be so mean~"_

"_I wasn't being mean. Being honest isn't mean. It's honesty to a fault."_

_The Spanish teen grinned and kissed Lovino's cheek, "You're so cute."_

"_I AM NOT CUTE!"_

. . .

He wondered what his little tomato was doing and _how_ he was doing. Had Damiano already shown back up at home? He could only pray it wasn't so. He looked up at the ominous sky and the thunder roared threateningly. The velvet canvas above him was darker than before and it wasn't due to the foreboding clouds. This was a different kind of darkness… a darkness he immediately recognized. It was the same kind on the night Lovino was…

Antonio shot to his feet.

Lovino.

No.

Not again!

The Spanish teen took off at a full sprint, ignoring the tightness in his chest. The doctor had told him not to do any sort of strenuous activity as his body was still on the long journey to recovery. But Antonio didn't care. He wasn't going to lose his precious tomato a second time!

* * *

Feliciano whimpered and covered his mouth with both hands to stifle the noise. His vision became blurry with tears and his heart thundered in his ears. Without even so much as a second thought, Damiano had murdered his mother… and he had the unfortunate chance to bear witness to it. He did his best to breathe evenly and slow his frantic heart. Feliciano peeked through the slightly ajar door and watched Damiano nudge his mother's limp body with his foot. After receiving no movement, the man turned heel and stepped away from her.

"Feliciano…" he called out calmly and voice honey sweet. "Feliciano, where are you? It's time to go."

The 12 year old scrambled further into the closet, eyeing Damiano pace throughout the house. He listened to his father's footsteps pounding on the hardwood and the sounds of his heavy breathing, hinting that he was either really tired or really frustrated. Probably both.

The Italian pre-teen couldn't help the silent tears streaming down his round face.

"Feliciano!" the man bellowed and knocked over a vase in anger. "Come out! _NOW!"_

Feliciano let out a small whimper in fear and successfully caught the man's attention. Damiano paused, listening for even the softest rustle. He advanced forward, concentrating on the silence. It was the very hall Feliciano was hiding out in and Damiano seemed to know that. He pounded on the walls, simply making noise to give the impression he was searching blindly and draw his youngest son out of hiding. He made the pounding softer, as if he was leaving the area, and waited ever so patiently.

Feliciano's heart slowed upon hearing the sound die away. He wondered if it was safe to leave and get help. He couldn't tell. It was too quiet. It should be safe, right? Feliciano hesitantly reached for the doorknob and his fingertips came in contact with cool brass…

…and turned the knob.

Lovino knew there was no time to mourn for his fallen mother. That would have to come later. He knew she would want them both out of the house and away from his father. He was not about to let her death be in vain! He had to do something right for once in his life and save his little brother! Lovino checked his wound again and winced. It had stopped bleeding but was still tender to the touch. It didn't matter. He had to press on.

He opened the guest room door and jumped at the raucous thumping until it disappeared completely. The house grew unbearably quiet after that. And that was never a good sign. It wasn't long until Lovino had it all figured out and rushed out of the room, slamming the door.

Feliciano drew his hand back at the loud noise and his father's thundering footsteps were soon drowned out by the monstrous roar above them.

Lovino rushed down the hall and managed to slip from Damiano's deadly clutches as the latter charged towards him, heading back to the living room.

"Feliciano! Go! Get out of here!" Lovino called over his shoulder and it wasn't long until he saw his brother blur out the front door. He even dared to stop for that millisecond to be sure Feliciano made it out safely before speeding up as if the devil was at his heels—and in truth that was the case.

He hurriedly glanced around and tore open the door to the basement. The teenager stumbled down the stairwell and opened the door to access the other half of the cellar—the unfinished half. He shut the door and was immediately surrounded by darkness save for the small patch of flashing light from the storm leaking in through a broken, dusty window.

There was no way in hell Lovino would've willingly hid down here as a child. Even now at 14 years old, fear took a large bite of him, leaving a huge wound in his courage. However, desperate times called for desperate measures.

Ignoring his mind's protests to turn back, he travelled further and hid behind some old boxes full of unnecessary household decorations. Damiano's heavy breathing was soon heard and the wood creaked beneath his shoes. Lovino swallowed the lump in his throat and listened intently.

"Where are you, you little bastard? Quit being a coward and show yourself!"

Lovino remained out of sight, not even the slightest bit provoked by his father's words.

"Maybe I should go after Antonio instead. He's still sick, isn't he? I should just finish what his mother started. I know how much he means to you, boy. Don't act as if you don't care."

The Italian teen's breath hitched in his throat.

"He's the whole reason you're even acting like this. If I take away that reason, there won't be any more fights between us. Hell, I'll even stop hitting you—more or less," Damiano wandered around. "Your mother can't protect your ass anymore. She's dead. There is no one on this earth that gives a shit about you. You may think Antonio does but you thought wrong. He's just looking for a thrill. That's all you're good for. You will never be worth anything!"

Lovino drowned out the lies. He had to keep the weed in his head from growing any stronger. He couldn't allow his mind to grow any weaker! And the only way to cut that weed down to size was to face the one who planted that deadly seed.

"I'll kill Feliciano, too, if that's what it takes—"

"There won't be any need," Lovino stood up, the patch of light making him a silhouette to the man.

"You've finally shown yourself. It's about time. You're gonna pay for that little stunt you pulled back there. I'll give you credit though: you're faster than I thought," Damiano wiped some sweat from his brow with the hand sporting the knife and it gleamed in the light.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, _Father," _Lovino spat the word.

Damiano caught the arrogance in his son's tone, "What do you plan on doing besides, you know, dying?"

"Not much," Lovino shrugged. "I'm just going to beat the shit out of you. Then I'm going to kill you. Dying isn't part of the plan."

Damiano chuckled, "This ought to be interesting."

* * *

Feliciano tried to keep his pace but continued running, panting violently in the pouring rain. He staggered to a stop, studying his surroundings. He inwardly began to panic.

Where was he?

Which way was he supposed to go?

Left? Right? Straight? Had he gone too far and passed it?

"Oh no… Lovino is going to kill me!" Feliciano gasped.

Lightning flashed and thunder snarled, commanding all those braving its wrath to retreat indoors.

"Feliciano?" a voice called out. "Is that you?"

The 12 year old stared at the figure heading towards him, slowing themself down to a jog before stopping completely. In the dim streetlights, Feliciano immediately recognized them.

"Antonio! I-I'm so glad you're here! I need your help…!" Feliciano ran up to the teenager and grabbed the latter's hand.

"I was on my way to your house right now! Where's Lovino?" Antonio questioned the exhausted boy.

"H-He's… back at home… with Dad…" Feliciano wheezed.

"All right, Feli, I need you to go get help. You're not far from the police station—it's just a few more blocks from here. Keep going."

"No, I want to help Lovino, too!"

"Feliciano, you need to get the police. Just go!" Antonio resumed his long run down the sidewalk.

The 12 year old watched Antonio go, waiting for him to be out of earshot before trailing behind, careful not to make enough noise where the Spaniard would hear him over the rain and thunder.

* * *

He hit the wall and stars danced across his vision. It wasn't but a moment later he was hauled to his feet and thrown across the room again, skidding against the floor. He gathered himself enough to see the knife coming down with brutal force in time to roll to his feet. Lovino swung his leg and knocked his father's feet from under him, scurrying away as Damiano hit the floor. Before the man could get up, Lovino started landing blow after blow on Damiano's face, smacking away the elder's hands when Damiano tried to shield his face.

"You son of a bitch!" each word was emphasized with a punch and a satisfying crunch was heard. A broken nose. "You killed my mother and hurt my brother!"

His muscles began to contract, wearied, but Lovino fought to keep his blows strong and true. The adrenaline coursing through his system was wearing out fast.

Damiano, in his stupor, held the knife tightly in his hand. Aiming for Lovino's neck, he only managed to cut the teen's arm and that gave him enough leeway to toss his son off. Lovino hurried up the stairs, not waiting for Damiano to regain enough focus to catch him. He needed time to catch his breath anyway.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you, boy?" Damiano was making his way up the stairwell back into the house. "Why even bother trying? I'm stronger than you. I'm faster than you. Hell, I'm smarter than you. Nothing you do will work. Just give up and we can stop all this."

"I'm not the scared little boy you once knew! For once, I'm fighting back!" Lovino growled.

Damiano sighed, "I pity you, boy. You'll have everything you need—a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and clothes on your back. All you have to do is obey me as the slave you're meant to be and it'll all work out peachy keen. And Antonio remains untouched."

"Fuck you! You're lying!"

"You have my word."

"You're fucking crazy if you think I'll go back to the lifestyle I once had! I'd rather die!" the teen panted.

"Wish granted."

Damiano charged towards Lovino again, surprising the latter with his sudden speed, and clamped his hand around the teen's neck, slamming him to the floor and loomed above him. Lovino struggled to pry the man's hand off, choking for oxygen. With his free hand, Damiano dug the knife into Lovino's side, earning a loud, rewarding cry from his son.

"You should've just taken my deal," Damiano wiped the blood staining the knife on Lovino's shirt. "Now I've got to kill you. It's a shame really. You would've made a lot of money on the black market."

The knife was poised to kill and Lovino closed his eyes, not wanting to see the pleasure in his father's eyes as the weapon came down. He bid a silent farewell to Antonio and Feliciano, wondering if he would see his mother wherever she had gone.

A pain filled grunt and the thud of a body hitting the floor was heard and Lovino opened his eyes, and the orbs widened at seeing Antonio, who was absolutely soaked, by his side. Judging from his father's busted lip and his staggering reaction, Antonio had hit him. And had hit him hard.

"Are you okay, Lovi?" Antonio knelt down and inspected his lover's wounds, helping the Italian sit up.

"What the hell are you doing here, Antonio! You have to get out!" Lovino shouted.

"No."

"Antonio—"

"Antonio, is it?" Damiano wiped the blood from his mouth and chuckled while getting to his knees. "You've got some real balls interfering at a time like this."

The Spanish teen's jade eyes hardened to ice and narrowed.

"It's about time we end this little game, wouldn't you agree, Lovino? And you know I never lose," Damiano retrieved the gun from its holster and aimed at the duo, his finger playing at the trigger.

Antonio moved in front of Lovino as it was pulled, bracing himself for the blow.

"_No!"_

The gun was knocked from his hand and it clattered to the floor, the bullet embedding itself into the wall behind Antonio and Lovino. Feliciano fumbled with the gun in his hands and moved in front of his brother and friend, directing it at his father.

"I told you to leave them alone!" Feliciano cried out, shaking terribly from cold and from fear.

"Feliciano, put the gun down," Damiano gradually stood up.

"Don't move!" Feliciano warned, his finger at the trigger. "You move and I fire!"

"You wouldn't do that, would you? Not to your own dad. Besides, you don't even know how to use that thing," Damiano said.

"Try me," Feliciano readied it for another shot and the man's eyes grew a fraction wider.

"I'm not going to tell you again, Feliciano. Do as your father says and put it down. Now!"

"You're no father of mine," the 12 year old growled.

Damiano dared to take a step forward and Feliciano made it a point he was now in control of the situation. Antonio and Lovino could only watch in awe, not even knowing what to say or think.

"So that's it, huh? You're going to kill the hand that's been feeding you all your life?"

"You've tormented my brother his entire life. My life no longer matters. I'll die protecting him!" Feliciano declared, his grip tightening on the gun.

"Pity."

"Leave right now and you'll live. No one has to know what went on here tonight. If you go now… I won't shoot," Feliciano reasoned, being the kind-hearted creature he was.

"Not an option. If you're not coming with me, I'm going to have to kill you, too," Damiano revealed the knife to his youngest son.

Feliciano gulped inaudibly, "You have one chance to leave. T-Take it now!"

Damiano stormed towards them, being sure to move, knowing that Feliciano wouldn't be able to hit a target let alone one that was in motion.

How wrong he was.

_BANG!_

Feliciano pulled the trigger and Damiano crumpled to his knees, gaping at the wound in his chest. The boy fired again and the bullet penetrated his father's heart. As the light left Damiano's eyes, the trio could've sworn there was some hint of regret clouding them.

But that had to have been their imagination.

* * *

Antonio sat beside a bandaged and frazzled Lovino and a shaking Feliciano in the hospital waiting room. Emilio leaned against the wall, off in his own world, oblivious to what was going on around him. It was still early morning and dawn had yet to kiss the land in greeting.

"Is your dad okay, Antonio?" Feliciano whispered.

"No. He's not," the teen replied lowly.

"What's wrong with him?" Lovino couldn't help but ask.

A pained expression made its way to Antonio's face, "My mother committed suicide."

The Vargas brothers didn't even have the chance to react before two men entered the hospital.

The first one, who was dressed in a dark flannel shirt and dark jeans, had curly hair and light facial stubble with perfectly tanned skin. His eyes were exactly like Feliciano's, a bright and fiery amber. There were two strands of lone hairs that stuck out from the rest—the notorious Vargas curl. This man was related to them.

The second man, who was a police officer, was definitely intimidating with his glacial ocean eyes and hard set facial features. His blonde hair reached past his shoulders and he brushed some loose strands out of his face.

Someone much short was accompanying the second man and Feliciano immediately ran to this person, leaving Antonio and Lovino confused until they recognized said person. The 12 year old sobbed into Ludwig's shoulder and the German hugged Feliciano tightly.

"I'm so glad you're okay," the blonde murmured, kissing Feliciano's head.

"How sweet," Antonio commented quietly.

"Lovino and Feliciano, correct?" the officer said.

"Yeah," Lovino nodded.

"Since there are no living relatives in your immediate area, I've been given the task of finding any sort of relative. I struck lucky and managed to find Romulus a few towns over," he replied.

Romulus.

Why did that name sound so familiar?

"You're right. You did strike lucky, Garren. I wasn't exactly trying to be found," Romulus replied with a scoff. "If you want me to take care of my grandsons, then forget it. I don't run a charity."

Romulus Vargas.

Their grandfather.

This man was their grandfather!

"Romulus, there is no one else. You are their only option," Garren tried to persuade the man. "Besides, they're your grandsons. You're seriously going to leave them out in the cold like this? They have nowhere else to go."

"My daughter should've thought of that a long time ago," the elder Vargas commented.

"Romulus—"

"Listen here, you old geezer," Lovino confronted his grandfather, his eyes burning and he growled. "You don't have to take me but take my brother. He's only 12 years old. I can't take care of him but _you _can! Whatever my mother did, you need to let it go! She's dead! She's gone!"

Romulus stared at the boy, unmoving. He soon saw his deceased son-in-law in the teen's features, sending a bitter taste in his mouth. The elder never did like Damiano. And this kid was a carbon copy.

"Take my brother," Lovino repeated.

Garren pulled Romulus to the side, being sure to speak in a firm tone.

"Romulus, you're my oldest friend and I want you to think about this. If you take one, you have to take the other. Don't separate them like this. They've been through enough as it is with their mother and father dying on the same night. This might do you some good."

"I don't need two kids running around my house and tearing up everything I've worked so hard to obtain."

"They are your grandsons and the only family you've got left. I understand your wife died two years ago but these kids need you. They can't fend for themselves on the streets. It'll just get worse for them," Garren said.

"All right, all right, fine! If it'll get you off my case then I'll take them!" Romulus exited the building in a hurry, not used to being on such an emotional rollercoaster.

Garren approached the brothers, trying to seem as disarmed as possible, "Everything will be fine, you two. Don't worry. Your grandfather has an estate here in Cuore so you won't have to leave behind your friends."

Lovino released the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and leaned against Antonio who gladly led him to a seat where the Italian teen fell asleep.

* * *

_July 5__th__, 2008—_

_It's been a little over a week since the incident. Feliciano and I are doing better but we haven't gone back to school yet. Feliciano isn't in the best condition to and I still have to be reenrolled and healed up before I can go. School was never fun anyway. Elizabeta, Bella, and Lili did pay us a visit, though. It was really nice to see them again. I can honestly say I missed them more than I realized._

_Antonio hasn't visited yet which is… odd. Usually I can't get the guy away from me and now… I haven't seen him. Maybe it's because Grandpa's estate is halfway across town so he can't make as trips. Who knows. I hope I see him soon. I kind of miss him. KIND OF. Don't get it twisted. He did go to the funeral though, which I appreciated. The girls did, too. Then again, his mother's funeral was held at the same time so… yeah. Feliciano and I haven't brought up our parents since then._

_Grandpa hasn't really spoken to us since we moved in here. He spends most of his time in his study and away from us. I wonder what the hell his problem is. I can't help but think he's still pissed off at Mom for what she did all those years ago and he's taking it out on us._

_Old people are so weird._

Lovino closed his journal and placed it on his nightstand. He wasn't in the mood to write today. That foreboding feeling was hovering over him again. Did it ever truly leave? Lovino knew it didn't. As long as these memories remained, a black cloud would hang above their heads, ready to soak them in heavy rainfall.

He sighed and stared out his window.

Sunny skies and not a cloud in sight—polar opposite of what he was feeling right now. A car pulling up to their house drew his attention and a familiar face climbing out of the vehicle sent him rushing to the door. Before the visitor could even knock, Lovino had already opened the door and jumped into the unsuspecting arms of Antonio. The Spanish teen laughed and hugged Lovino tightly.

"Where the hell have you been? I thought you would've visited already! Not that I was waiting for you or anything…" Lovino mumbled the last part.

"I'm sorry, _querido. _I've just been busy," Antonio smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. And it only took Lovino a split second to notice this.

"What's wrong?" the Italian asked.

Antonio glanced over his shoulder, back at the car, and sighed, "Lovi… we're leaving town."

"What…?" Lovino took a step back in disbelief.

"My father is not himself, obviously. With my mom and his old best friend being dead, it's really hard for him right now. And this place… it just holds too many memories. He wants to go back to Spain."

"No… you said… you said you wouldn't leave!"

"I know, Lovi, and I'm sorry. But understand, this isn't my choice! I don't _want _to go! I would much rather be here with you, believe me! My dad needs to be taken care of, please understand. I don't want him doing anything stupid or anything he'll regret. I'll come back."

"How can I believe you?" Lovino gazed through his dark bangs.

"Because I love you," Antonio brushed those brown locks of hair out of the Italian's face, causing the latter to look up. "You are my world, Lovi. I would be nothing without you."

Lovino blushed, "…I love you, too."

A small smile graced Antonio's face and their lips meet in a sweet kiss that left the sting of yearning in their hearts. Knowing that they would be thousands of miles apart tugged at their hearts which beat in perfect unison with one another. This wasn't supposed to happen. Soul mates weren't meant to be apart from each other.

"I'll come back," Antonio kissed Lovino's brow and pulled the Italian close. "I'll come back."

"You'd better," Lovino spoke through shuddering tones, his lover's shirt fisted in his hands. "If you don't…"

"I _will. _I'll be back as soon as I can, _querido."_

The horn from the vehicle parked behind them blared, telling Antonio to hurry along. The Spanish teen glanced back again and turned to his sweet little tomato.

"You'd best get going. Don't wanna piss your dad off, now do you?" Lovino was standing in the doorjamb, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts.

Antonio nodded slowly, hesitant to leave the porch.

"Go on. I'll see you when you get back," Lovino said. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Goodbye for now, my sweet Lovi," Antonio offered a sorrowful smile and received a small wave in return before returning to the car.

Lovino didn't dare watch them leave and retreated inside his new home, crumbling to the floor as soon as the door was shut.

Looking back, the duo didn't regret meeting. That was when life was perfect, when life had meaning. How could they have ever known it would lead to this bitter farewell? At this, they were glad they didn't know how it all would end and that life's better if you just play with the cards you're dealt. Win or lose, it's all for a reason.

They could've avoided all the pain and suffering knowing what was to happen.

But that meant they would have to miss the dance.


	20. Epilogue: Perfection

**Here we are, everyone! Final stop! Gosh, I have received the most wonderful feedback on this story. All of your support has kept my dreams as a future author alive and flourishing. I can't thank you enough for that. I just... I can't even... ALKJDFALSDJLALJKD**

**Ahem. Sorry about that. I hope you all enjoy the last update for Midnight's Hymn and I shall see you in Midnight's Kiss (if it ever comes off hiatus) or any other story I decide to post in between then and now.**

**Please don't forget to vote on the poll on my profile. Whichever decision I make will be in the best interest of the story. Until then, I will working on Schism (which is still being greatly revised) or any other story I have going on here that I've neglected horribly. Sorry to those who follow them!**

**The inspiration for this story came from the lovely Josh Groban and his song Higher Window. It practically SPEAKS Lovino and Antonio. Well, at least from the Midnight Dancers standpoint. I wish I could list all the songs that helped me out with this entire story but it would make for one hell of an author's note.**

**Silly me, I'm rambling.**

**Happy reading and see you all next time~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**WARNINGS: none.**

* * *

**Epilogue:**

**Perfection**

The two young men stood there before the cold stones now covered in moss. The younger of the two knelt down and wiped away the growth with his hand, reading the epitaphs with dim amber eyes. His older brother watched him, his expression blank and unmoving as a statue's. He watched his little sibling ghost his fingers along their mother's name etched in the stone, leaving their father's untouched. The autumn wind whistled through the trees, the leaves dancing on their perches.

It had been seven long years since their deaths and they still felt the burn of the scar on their now battered hearts. They just hoped their grandfather wouldn't join them anytime soon. They had grown to love the now cheerful man. Those two had ignited an old flame within the elder and Garren had once commented Romulus seemed to be his old self again.

"Come on, Feliciano. We'd better get going," Lovino said, not needing to glance up at the sky to know a storm was brewing. "It's going to rain soon."

Feliciano turned to gaze at his brother for a moment, the regret shining in his eyes, and stood up. The bouquets of flowers in his hands were left at their respective graves. The salmon peonies were for their mother to let her know they remained on the verge of recovery and the scar was healing. The white tulips for their father told him that they had forgiven him for all the pain and loneliness he'd caused in their lives.

They were finally ready to let it go.

No more grudges.

No more contempt.

It was time they moved on after seven long years.

The brothers quietly left the cemetery, heading back into the main part of town to meet up with Ludwig. The loose gravel crunching beneath their shoes was silenced by the loud commotion of Cuore, both receiving and giving greetings to those either braving the impending storm or rushing back to their homes.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano called out with a wave, running up to the much taller blonde, hugging him tightly. Despite being a year younger than Lovino, Ludwig seemed to tower over him, standing at an intimidating 6'2" while Lovino was stuck at 6 foot even". Feliciano was getting there—he stood at 5'10", maybe even a few centimeters taller than that.

"How are you today, Lovino?" Ludwig asked, knowing that the older Italian would probably bite his head off for even speaking to him but it was worth a shot.

Lovino didn't hear him though. The young man was staring off into the distance with a minute confused expression, as if… as if he was trying to believe something. Ludwig and Feliciano both watched Lovino start to wander in that direction for a moment before he stopped and seemed to have come to his senses.

He blinked in confusion.

What the hell was _that?_

He couldn't explain such a feeling. It felt as if his heard was being tugged. No, the sensation wasn't painful nor was it uncomfortable. As his heart was being tugged, it fluttered about aimlessly in his chest, obviously excited. It was so odd…

"Are you okay, _fratello?" _Feliciano questioned.

"Yeah…" was the delayed reply. "Yeah I'm fine."

"Are you sure? We can go back home if you want," Feliciano reasoned.

"I said I'm fine. Let's go," Lovino walked past the duo in a huff, jamming his hands into his coat pockets.

"If you say so…" Feliciano and Ludwig linked hands and trailed after him.

Lovino suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

There it was again! The tugging!

It was stronger this time—much stronger. His heart thrummed like the wings of a hummingbird and compelled him to take a step back where the pull lessened. That yanking meant something… but what? What did it mean? It couldn't have been what he thought it was. There was just no way. It was impossible.

He continued on, ignoring the wrenching of his heart.

_It's not good to get your hopes up, Lovino. Just stop it. There's no use. All you'll do is cause yourself more suffering and that's the last thing you need. It's been seven years. Let him go, _Lovino reprimanded himself, his thoughts breaking and shifting as the surface of the lake.

"_Fratello, _I think you need to go home and get some rest. You don't look too good," Feliciano placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"No…" Lovino shook his head and turned his back. "I'm fine."

There was a slight painful twinge in his heart now and he winced unnoticeably. Why wouldn't this go away? He hadn't felt this since…

"_Fratello, _I'm really worried about you. You're scaring me. What's wrong?"

Lovino's head whipped around in the direction they came.

The persistency of it all…

It had to be…

Yes! It had to be him!

Lovino took off back towards the desolate area of town, leaving his brother and Ludwig far behind. Feliciano called after him but the older Italian didn't hear his words. He was focused on one thing and one thing only. And he had to get there as soon as possible. He had to confirm his suspicions! His heart wouldn't bear it if he didn't! Dodging the crowd, his heart's whispers guided him down the path he sprinted down, which turns he should take and warning him if he had gone too far.

He soon arrived at the entrance to the clearing that held so many memories, both of joy and sorrow. He put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. His mind flowed with the moments he held so dear, those he didn't dare to let wander in the deep recesses of his mind to be held under lock and key. No, these memories deserved to be free where he could relive them as he pleased.

He trekked forward slowly, the wind murmuring him to continue through the foliage… that there was something waiting for him—something he had been waiting for the past seven years for. Thunder rolled softly across the sky and light grey clouds hovered, not daring to interrupt what fate had in store for this young man of only 21 years.

Upon reaching the clearing, someone was indeed standing there, watching the few straggling fireflies flittering about. Tall. Toned muscles underneath his outfit. Definitely male. Tan skin. Curly brunette hair.

It couldn't be…

"…Antonio?" the name was nothing but a subtle whisper being carried along the breeze and reaching the young man standing there for he turned around.

Those eyes…

Those gorgeous emerald eyes…

It was!

It _was _him!

He was here!

Lovino inhaled sharply at the confirmation. Disregarding the tears as they trailed behind him like falling stars, Lovino sprinted towards the love of his life, jumping into his waiting arms. Antonio's embrace fit perfectly around the Italian's waist, further proving what had already been established.

Their lips met in a fervent kiss, sending warmth throughout their bodies even as the rain poured down on them, shedding its tears of joy at the scene. The wind and rain sang through the trees, muttering those past moments they spent with each other. Neither needed to say those three words that were uttered dishonestly to most and truthfully to those fortunate few. Their love was like the silent ripples in the lake, starting out small in the center before growing outward.

They were meant for each other. Warm and silent symmetry. Two pieces to an incomplete puzzle.

The Missing Piece.

It had been placed delicately back in Lovino's heart and he felt whole again. The void no longer existed nor would it ever exist again. There was light finally bursting through that dusty broken window, the window that was too high to clean or fix.

Why?

Because he had everything he could ever want right here in his arms.

_November 18__th __& 21__st__, 2015—_

_This entry is a continuation of the last time I wrote in this which was on the 18__th__. I haven't had much of a desire to write in this dusty old thing—just little snippets here and there. I'm surprised it's still in good condition._

_But I honestly have one thing to say: he's back._

_Antonio finally came back! After seven long years… he's home!_

_I don't ever plan on letting him go again. I love him too much to allow that. To describe the pain I went through after it dawned on me that he truly was gone… is damn near impossible. It felt as if I'd been hit by a car in the simplest of terms. Everything hurt and it wasn't just emotionally—physically, too._

_It took everything out of me. I no longer had the drive to do anything. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even think. At least not about anything but the pain. I sound pathetic but it's the truth. Feliciano worried about me constantly like a mother hen watching her baby chicks. Grandpa was certain that this was just a phase and that it would pass._

_It never did._

_But I don't have to worry about that anymore._

_He's home and that's all that matters._

_Life is like an hourglass—once your sand runs out, there's no way to turn it back again. Make the best of it. Hate is unnecessary baggage. Life is too short to go around being pissed off all the time. Still wondering about true love? If I found it then you sure as hell can. Whatever higher power you answer to, sure, they may be writing your happy ending. But pitch in a chapter or two! Some input from you would be great!_

_Make your novel worth reading. Make it a best-seller. You'll find yourself a hell of a lot happier._

_So…_

_Was mine worth reading?_

* * *

Lovino closed his journal, placing it back in the box full of items he managed to salvage. He sifted through the other items such as Feliciano's sketchbook that was being held for safekeeping. Piano compositions, pictures and other keepsakes were in the box as he rummaged through them.

The sound of running feet hitting the hardwood was soon heard, drawing him back to reality.

"Papa!" a boy of only three burst through the door wearing a bright grin. "Papa, let's go to the park! Can we? Please, Papa! Let's go!"

The young father smiled in amusement as he shut the box, sliding it back into its respective place, waiting for the moment it would be opened again. Lovino's hand was soon grabbed by a much smaller hand, one that used to be slightly larger, and pulled down the stairs.

"It's so pretty outside, Papa!" Antonio said as soon as they stepped outside, basking in the sunlight.

"You're right, Toni," Lovino lifted the boy and placed him on his shoulders. "It is."

_No matter what tears us apart, we always manage to find ourselves back together again, don't we? Our hearts were meant to be one from the very beginning. It's funny how fate plans these things, isn't it?_

_I will never stop praying for your happiness, Antonio._

_And I can only hope that I am a part of that._


End file.
